Why Is He Not A Goblin?
by Miss Mercury101
Summary: Wished away by Dudley to the Labyrinth of the Goblin King, Harry is taken under Jareth's wing. So what happens then when he goes to Hogwarts?
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I, in absolutely no way at all, own any of these characters. Unfortunately. Very unfortunately. It is a pity, I have to admit. J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all other related characters and I'm not entirely sure who owns Jareth and his related characters. _

_This is my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic, so please be nice and tell me what you think in a review. 'Encounters' is a set of different stories with the sort of same plotline._

**Prologue**

Harry shivered. He was in his cupboard, dressed in only a t-shirt and a pair of shorts despite it being winter. He could hear Dudley whining about the latest film that was out on video, and that he absolutely had to see 'because everyone else at school has seen it, and surely, mummy, you don't want me to be different and freaky like that freak.' Dudley, at age 7 and a half, although not known for his vocabulary, had quickly learnt that the best way to get his parents to do something for him was to compare himself to Harry so that his parents would immediately get him the latest toy or whatever it was he wanted. It was surprisingly smart for him, Harry thought.

"Boy!" Harry grimaced. Uncle Vernon didn't have to yell; you could hear him from a mile away but for some reason, he liked to bellow. "We're taking Dudley to the cinema! Stay in your cupboard!" Harry rolled his eyes; his uncle seemed to have forgotten he'd locked him in and said loudly back, "Yes, Uncle Vernon."

He heard the door slam, and sat down on the bed whilst letting out a sigh. He hated his life here at his 'home.' Wouldn't it be nice if the Dursleys actually treated him as part of the family? He could have his own clothes, three full meals a day and his own bedroom. He fell back onto his bed and sighed again. Lord knew that was never going to happen.

At some point, he fell asleep and he dozed restlessly, seeing in his dreams a man with messy black hair hugging a red-haired woman, who seemed to be staring at Harry. He felt no feelings of dislike from them, but feelings of love and pride. The couple, his parents, Harry realised, faded away to be replaced by a man with mismatched eyes and untamed blonde hair, also watching him with the same feelings of love and pride which did not diminish although Harry was sure he'd never seen this man before in his life, not even in his dreams. He was awoken suddenly by the slamming of the front door; the Dursleys were back.

He heard the unlocking of his cupboard door, and he sprang up, making it so the Dursleys would not accuse him of being lazy. That usually meant they wouldn't give him the next meal, and he was desperately hungry.

He crept out with Petunia immediately barking orders at him. "Clean the kitchen. And make yourself a sandwich or something; we've already eaten."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." He shouldn't have to be doing this, Harry thought with sudden venom. He was nearly seven years old, for God's sake.

"Oh, darn it, Vernon, I've left my purse in the restaurant!" Harry heard Aunt Petunia say unhappily from her seat in the living room. "Can you drive me there?"

"Of course, Pet. But what about the children?"

Harry's heart was speeding up; would he be able to go out and visit somewhere, if only for a minute or two?

"We could leave them here, I suppose. Maybe get Mrs Figg to watch them for five minutes or so. I'll ring her and see if it's alright."

Harry's heart slowed down. Stuck indoors with Mrs Figg and her cats. She'd probably try to make the boys guess all the names of her cats. He couldn't hear the exact conversation that Aunt Petunia was having but she sounded quite happy which wasn't a very good sign.

Putting the phone down, Aunt Petunia exhaled noisily. "She's twisted her ankle so she can't come across to look after them but she offered to watch them from the window. It should be alright, surely; we'll only be gone for about five minutes."

"Right you are, Pet." Uncle Vernon said. "Dudley, we'll be out for about five minutes and Mrs Figg will be watching from across the road." There was no answer except for a grunt of acknowledgement from Dudley. "Boy, I'll let you stay out of your cupboard just this once, but if anything bad happens, you're going straight back in there, you hear me!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry said with his head down. Inside he was smiling. Perhaps this was the start of a life where he wouldn't be locked inside the cupboard so much. Yeah right, he thought sullenly. The front door slammed shut and Harry stepped into the living room. He was rarely in here since he wasn't allowed to step foot into the room with the television and Aunt Petunia didn't trust him enough to clean the room. He heard footsteps come thundering down the stairs and he sighed quietly. He should have known the peace and quiet wouldn't have lasted long and Harry quickly moved through to the kitchen. Dudley came into the kitchen as well, and pulled some chocolate ice-cream out of the freezer and proceeded to eat it straight from the tub.

"I went to see Labyrinth today." Dudley said conversationally. Harry knew nothing good would come of this; it was never a good sign when Dudley started speaking to him instead of punching him. "It was about these goblins who take wished away people." Dudley now had a predatory look in his eyes and was moving closer and closer to Harry. "Y'know, I want to wish you away and see if it works."

At this, Harry stood upright and hurried towards his cupboard, recognising the signs of Dudley's favourite game: Harry Hunting in which Harry was beaten up. However, Dudley was surprisingly quick on his feet and ran after him.

"I wish the goblins would come and take you away right now!" Dudley yelled, shoving the freak back into the cupboard. Harry's cry of pain as he hit his head on the door jamb suddenly cut off, making Dudley, who had turned back to the kitchen to finish his ice-cream, stop and look round.

"Freak?" he questioned. There was no answer.

Feeling a rage suddenly sweep over him, he spat, "When Mum and Dad get home, you're gonna be in so much trouble!"

Still there came no answer, not even a sob of pain, which Dudley had expected to hear from the freak hitting his head. No sound of movement could be heard, and Dudley's fury abruptly vanished. Inching closer towards the cupboard door, which stood open, he had to gather what little courage he had to even say the next word:

"Ha-Harry?" One more movement would put him in front of the door, and, squeezing his bulk past, he looked in. There was nothing. Oh, there were signs of the freak being there- his bed sheets were crumpled and a row of books could be seen neatly placed next to the other underneath the camp bed. A few pictures precariously hung on the wall, staying up only through the use of sellotape which looked as if it had lost its stickiness years ago. But Harry wasn't there. However, there was one thing different; there lay a white feather on the pillow of the bed, and something inside Dudley called to him to pick it up. Shuffling forward, he looked round, feeling eyes on him, although there was nothing there but still that feeling of uneasiness preyed on Dudley's mind and he quickly grabbed for the feather. The first thought that came to Dudley's mind was that it was very soft but his thinking was interrupted by the voice from behind him.

"Dudley Dursley, I presume."

Said boy spun around, gobsmacked at the figure who had suddenly materialised in front of him. A tall blond man was leaning against the wall opposite the cupboard with a smile on his face that spoke of menace to those who crossed him and eyes that could speak of many dangerous adventures.

"You're him. The Goblin King." Dudley realised. "But you're not real. You can't be real. You're magic and magic doesn't exist. Mum said so."

"Why is it every mortal must ask me who I am when they appear to know the answer?" Jareth remarked to no-one in particular. "But why tell me I am not real when you can so clearly see that is false. Why do you not believe in magic, Dudley Dursley," Jareth said softly. "Why is it that your mother does not believe in magic? When it has proven itself by taking away your cousin to the Goblin Kingdom."

Dudley had to stop and reflect on this. The King had a point.

Jareth continued. "Do you want your cousin back?" At some indiscernible point, he had taken out a crystal ball and was juggling it without ever taking his eyes off Dudley. He was beginning to feel very uncomfortable with these mismatched eyes watching him, seeming to pierce through to his very soul. "You could have this instead of Harry. It gives you your dreams."

Dudley's attention was immediately focused on the orb, and his gaze was flicking between Jareth and the ball.

"And all you have to do is forget your cousin." Jareth spoke, breaking Dudley's thoughts on what he could do with his dreams. Jareth could almost see the cogs turning at a very slow speed.

"If I want my cousin back," Dudley said slowly, "then I have to come with you and run your Labyrinth."

"Yes," Jareth confirmed, "but you don't have to." His tone was silky and almost hypnotic as he continued, juggling the crystal with Dudley's eyes following every movement. "You can take the crystal, take your dreams with it and all I ask is that you forget your cousin, you forget the freak, so that he becomes one of us. You'll never have to worry about him again; your family would never have to worry ever again. You could be completely normal."

Dudley sized the situation up: he could attempt to rescue the freak so that he would keep his favourite punching bag, he wouldn't have to do any chores so long as Harry was there and Harry would be somewhat safe. But, if he was in another world and never came back, he and his family would be completely normal and never have to worry about one of **them**_. _Who **they**were, he wasn't sure, but from overheard conversations between his parents, they weren't good.

"_Vernon, the boy mustn't know. Nor should Dudley. But we have to keep him here. For our safety. Otherwise, __**they'll**__ turn up here and use their things to make us forget. They can make us forget everything. Or they'll kill us. Lily told me about one of __**them; **__he was evil and he took pleasure in killing normal people like us!"_

"_But Pet-"_

"_No, the boy must stay! I don't care if we have to worry about the secret coming out or having attention directed towards us but we need him for our safety."_

_Vernon agreed, but Dudley could hear the exasperation in his tone, as well as the worry and Dudley, in that moment, absolutely hated his cousin for making them have to depend on him and making his parents worry._

It was this more than anything that made him agree to Jareth's offer. "You can have the freak, but I want the ball."

The sudden gleam in Jareth's eyes made him almost rethink his answer; there were promises of pain and death for any unlucky enough to anger him and there was time enough for Dudley to recognise this and feel almost concerned for Harry, but then Jareth was saying, "Take your dream," and holding the crystal ball out towards Dudley and his worry abated. But had he been watching Jareth's face, he would have noted the malevolence in his smile and the dangerous gleam in his eyes.

However we must not forget that this was Dudley Dursley, whose greed was only outweighed by his physical size, and who grabbed the crystal ball from the hand of the Goblin King before staring into the orb, desperately searching for his dream to become reality. He never noticed the disappearance of the Goblin King and Dudley remained standing and staring, the crystal gripped in his hands until his parents arrived home. Petunia immediately rushed to Dudley, crying how she had hated being separated from her darling Dudders and only realised he hadn't noticed her when he failed to hug back, asking for what they had bought him as a present for going away, even for such a short time. She drew back, with her son staring motionlessly at the crystal and giving no sign that he had even heard her, let alone felt the hug. For what Jareth hadn't said was that Dudley's dreams would only ever be real within the crystal sphere and Dudley's greed was too great to ever want to let go of it.

_Author's Note: So what did you think?? A) Good? B) Bad? C) Fantastic D) Awful? or E) You have a similar/another opinion that you'd love to put in a review?_

_P.S. To be honest, I have no idea where I'm going with this story so if you do like it, say so because I'd like to know whether I need to think about more chapters. _

_P.P.S. I realise that Dudley wishing Harry away is similar to another story so sorry if you think it's plagiarism but it's not. I have a completely different idea for this one._


	2. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Labyrinth. *smiles bravely* But I think I'll be able to go on. Wish me luck, fellas._

_Anyway, I am absolutely flabbergasted by the reaction to this story so far; I've had some lovely reviews so thank you for those, and I've been placed on story alerts and everything! *glows with happiness.*_

**Chapter 1**

Jareth arrived back in his throne room and found a room of complete disarray. Goblins were running amok all over the place with a small boy sitting in the middle of his throne and watching them curiously. Jareth's eyes flashed with annoyance upon seeing this (It was **his **bachelor pad throne, dammit!) and he strode towards his throne, kicking goblins out of the way. The small boy noticed him coming, and jumped off the throne with a terrified look in his eyes for he recognised the dangerous look in Jareth's eyes. Inside, Jareth smirked: he still had it. His confidence had taken a sharp downturn after Sarah had beaten him and his Labyrinth but this cowering was sending it right back up again.

Soon standing right in front of the boy, he said scornfully, "Your family doesn't want you." Perhaps a bit of taunting would make him cheerful again. After all, every action has an opposite so by making the boy miserable, he would be happy, he reasoned.

This plan then went down the drain as the boy replied, "I know." Jareth was taken aback by this, although he didn't show it. The wished away normally put up at least some protest at how their family didn't mean to do it. This was quite abnormal.

"Your name?" Jareth asked. He was probably going to need a new name; a nice, traditional goblin name. He wondered if the boy knew what was going to happen to him. Doubtful. The wished away normally didn't, unless they'd already read the book. That didn't often happen but there were the odd fan-girls. Bad things happened around them and Jareth. Traumatising things, really. Even as goblins, they were always near. And he didn't even want to start thinking about the number of times he'd woken up in the middle of the night with them sitting on his bed and staring at him. Even more traumatising, believe you him.

"Harry, sir."

Jareth frowned. That name seemed strangely familiar. Had it been in the news or something? He waved the thought away, and scowled.

"Do not call me sir. It's your majesty. For I am Jareth, the Goblin King, ruler of the Underground. And now, since it is obvious no-one is coming to rescue you, you have to pay the forfeit. You get turned into a goblin." Jareth said, smirking. He gave no time to allow Harry to react to this statement, but reached his hand out to lie just above the hair on the boy's head. There were evil chuckles from all around the room as the goblins' attention was seized by another Changing.

Concentrating, Jareth started to hum a very enchanting tune that spoke of happiness but Harry could hear something else in the tune that seemed malevolent somehow and he tried to shrink away from it but Jareth's hand, although not touching him, was holding him in place. There was something inside of Harry calling to the allure in Jareth's voice but a stronger part of him was rejecting it. These two sides were battling the other but the rejecter of Jareth's magic became the stronger side and the tension and magic in the air surrounding Harry became too much: his eyes rolled up into his head and he fainted.

Jareth simply stood there, shocked, as the Changing failed. It had never done so before. So why now? Had he done something wrong, or was there something wrong with the boy? Levitating him up to lie on his throne with a wave of his hand, he decided that this could be a wizarding child. He'd had some of them before and their natural magic had tried to fight his when he Changed them. He decided he'd take the child to Gringotts when the boy woke up. They had records on every wizarding child that had been born so it was likely they'd have something on this one. Snarling at the confusion, he whirled, transforming into an owl before diving out the window

When Harry came round a few hours later, he was surrounded by goblins watching him. They were muttering under their breath and he was surprised to feel no fear.

"Um, hello?" he said, struggling to sit up. At his words, all as one, the goblins took a step backwards and scattered. Oh, he thought. Should I have not said hello? He grasped at his head, feeling woozy and attempted to prop himself up against the arm of the throne.

"Ah, Harry. You are awake. Come here," Jareth said shortly. Harry nearly fell off the throne; he had not noticed the Goblin King approach. At least, Jareth reflected, he still had the power to scare the minions. That gave him some satisfaction. "We are going to Gringotts."

"But what's-" The rest of Harry's question was lost as Jareth seized his arm and they whirled about in blackness, Harry saw, before quickly closing his eyes to stop the feelings of nausea.

The shoppers of Diagon Alley were very startled when a man appeared with a POP on the steps to Gringotts. Actually, it wasn't the arrival that startled them but the glitter that appeared with him and covered the steps of Gringotts. Even more startling was the welcome the goblin guards gave the unknown man when he swept past them. They bowed. Bowed! Goblins never bowed to humans. The child that followed in the man's footsteps quickly became the subject of even more gossip up and down the Alley as the news spread.

Inside the bank, the subjects of the gossip were storming towards the private chambers of the goblins (well, Jareth was storming and Harry was trailing behind feeling very confused), unaware of what was being said about them and quite shocking the other people in the bank when none of the goblins made any move to stop them. Jareth barged into the office of the Director of Gringotts, Magred who looked round in annoyance when he heard the disruption but hastily covered it with a bow when he realised it was the Goblin King.

"This child was wished away to me, and I tried to Change him. So why is he not a goblin?" Jareth said angrily. "I performed the Changing ritual but it did not work. Tell me why, Magred."

"Well, your majesty, we could do some tests on the human and see what his heritage is. Perhaps that would explain why it failed." The goblin said nervously.

"Do so." Jareth commanded, swinging around gracefully and falling into the Director's chair. "Now."

"Of course, sire." Turning towards his desk, Magred rang a bell and a few seconds later, another goblin arrived in the doorway.

"Griphook," the older goblin said, "see to a heritage potion for the boy here."

"Yes, sir," Griphook snapped out and throwing an awestruck glance at Jareth as he quickly left the room. It was rare the Goblin King visited Aboveground, let alone Gringotts, so to see him was always something to boast about. He returned a few minutes later, with a bottle of a dark purple liquid and gave it to Magred, who looked questioningly at Jareth.

"Yes, yes, go ahead," he said lazily, waving his hand in the general direction of Harry who had been standing there watching with puzzlement all the events of the past few minutes. Taking the potion from Magred who had sidled up to him, he looked curiously at it.

"You drink it, boy." the goblin said impatiently and so Harry did. A strange heat rolled through him and seemed to take control of his body. Harry panicked but was unable to do anything to stop it and he opened his mouth.

"Harry James Potter, born to Lily Elena Potter née Evans and James Nicholas Potter who died at the wand of Tom Marvolo Riddle in 1981." There was a sharp intake of breath at this but Harry wasn't yet finished. "Magically adopted by the King of the Goblins and Ruler of the Underground in 1986."

There was a silence that hung in the room, almost tangibly, Harry thought dazedly. Did that mean his aunt and uncle had lied to him, that his parents weren't drunkards killed in a car accident, and did that mean magic was real? But what about that last bit? He was adopted?

"Excuse me?" Jareth said, in a deadly soft tone of voice. "I have adopted the boy? How?"

"I suppose, your majesty, and it's nothing more than a hypothesis, but when you tried to Change the boy, your magic somehow merged with his and yours, well, adopted his, so congratulations, your highness. You've magically adopted him." Magred said, surreptitiously moving closer towards the door.

"What!"

At this shout the goblin promptly hurried out the room. And just in time, as Jareth shot a ball of flame at the door. Across the room, Harry looked at Jareth in question. For some reason, what Jareth did next became terribly important. If he said no, Harry thought he might break down. Jareth's face was unreadable as he watched Harry. This would explain why the Changing had failed. He had heard of a prophecy about the defeater of Voldemort and supposed the Dark Lord could not be defeated by a goblin.

"Well, I have always wanted to corrupt a wizard child," Jareth said finally, and as he watched Harry's face settle into an expression of hope but still there was wariness. Harry couldn't allow himself to believe that Jareth had said yes.

"That is a yes." It was unlike Jareth to not be so cryptic but when dealing with humans, he had found it necessary to be blunt. And a little piece of Jareth's cold, black heart melted as he watched Harry's face light up with genuine happiness for what was, Harry was sure, the first time in his life that he could remember. But if anybody asked, Jareth never felt that emotion. Not even when Harry ran across the room and hugged him. Not even then. And if anyone saw a small smile on his face, then it was a trick of the light. Nothing more. Nothing, nothing, tra la la.

_Author's Note: So what did you think? Review and tell. Multi-choice answers, people - A) Good? B) Bad? C) Fantastic D) Awful? or E) You have a similar/another opinion that you'd love to put in a review?_

_Again, if you want a certain pairing, review and tell me. Bye-bye for now._


	3. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I must tell you all of a horrible truth. I don't own Harry. Or Labyrinth. I'm just doing what the crazy plot bunnies tell me to. So if you sue me, please don't. Sue them instead. Thank you for your time._

_Thank you all so much for your reviews and placing me on alerts. I feel so happy! Now, I must mention that I have no idea how to write Jareth. He's a difficult character to pin down, you see (in more ways than one (include lasvicious wink here)) and I'm trying my best to write him properly, so if you feel he's not being written well enough, than review with comments on how to improve. I know Sarah makes a short appearance and I can try to write more about that if you want. Um, what else? Ah, updates. From January onwards, I'm not going to be able to update much since I'm at boarding school and the stupid IT people don't allow Fanfiction on the allowed sites. Plus, I have coursework to do so the liklihood of me being able to write anything is quite small. I will try though. So, hope you enjoy!_

**Chapter 2**

5 Years Later

Harry was lounging about on his bed, and mentally planning what he was going to do for the day. He could try running the Labyrinth again, but he'd done that yesterday. Perhaps, he could play with the goblins, but the only problem with that was they didn't know what playing was exactly. So that plan was scrubbed off the list. He could go see Sarah, maybe. He frowned; she was probably at work.

Harry had recently met Sarah when she had visited Belowground to see her friends Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo. They had causally been walking the Labyrinth chatting when Harry appeared in front of them. He had been running the Labyrinth and Sarah had immediately asked him what he was doing there. They had a short discussion on Jareth after that, and Harry had noticed how Sarah's expression had softened when he told her how Jareth had taken him after being wished away by his cruel family who had forced him to sleep outside when it rained and snowed. And if Jareth had paid him to make the Goblin King look better in Sarah's eyes, well, he wasn't saying anything. Shortly after that meeting between Harry and Sarah, Jareth and Sarah had met again, but at least the reunion hadn't gone as disastrously as last time. Sarah had eyed Jareth with an oddly speculative look and Jareth kept the leering and flirting down to a minimum.

This planning was stopped by one of the goblins who normally guarded the borders of Belowground running into the door of Harry's bedroom. A little annoyed by this disturbance, Harry yelled out, "Enter!"

The goblin did so cautiously, and seeing that Harry didn't appear to be about to bog him, hurried to him.

"Master Harry," he panted, "Letter…owl…you," and was feebly waving the arm with the aforementioned letter in his hand. Harry leaned down and plucked the letter from his grasp. It was made of parchment, and Harry smirked as he realised what it was. Tearing the letter open, his smirk grew as he read the invitation to attend Hogwarts.

Smoothly apparating to outside the throne room, he walked in and saw Jareth on his throne. Normally this would have been alright, but Jareth was with someone: Sarah. But when I say with, I mean kissing. Well, kissing probably wasn't the right word to describe exactly what they were doing to one another; it was more frantically devouring the faces off each other. Seeing this, Harry immediately began screaming. "Aah, my eyes, my eyes!"

Jumping apart, Sarah hastily smoothed down her clothing and blushing, walked rather quickly out of the throne with a goodbye to Jareth and a hello to Harry. Jareth meanwhile tapped his whip on his knee and asked moodily, "Why did you have to come in then? I was having a perfectly lovely time without you."

Harry rolled his eyes and presented his letter to Jareth. "I got my Hogwarts letter."

"Oh. **Oh**. Well that changes everything, does it not?" The two began to chuckle evilly, and the goblins outside shivered in fear. Laughs like those normally heralded a mass Bogging.

* * *

"Well, Harry, have you got all your luggage?" asked Jareth, after entering Harry's bedroom. He looked around disdainfully and added, "Your room appears to look like it has been turned upside down, you know."

"Yes, I know," Harry panted, running round his room. "It's just I couldn't find anything."

Jareth looked at him with condescension. "You realise you could have used magic, do you not."

Harry blushed. "Oops." Picking another piece of clothing off the floor, he flicked his wrist at it and it disappeared. "Right, I think that's everything."

Stepping towards him, the Goblin King took hold of Harry's arm, making sure he was touching all his luggage, and whirled him away. They landed elegantly although Harry staggered a little, amidst a shower of glitter. This made other people on the platform look at them in slight wonder and then laughter as they saw the clothes they were wearing, but a glare from Harry and a contemptuous look from Jareth made them quickly turn back round to mind their own business.

"Right," Jareth said awkwardly, scratching his head without noticing. "Are you quite ready? I'll come see you soon, when it is possible for me to do so."

Harry nodded impatiently. "Yes, I'm fine. You go rule Belowground; I'll be fine up here, and if I have any problems, I can call for one of the goblins. I know what to do, Jareth. You've lectured me on this ever since I got my letter whilst telling me to do as much mischief as I can."

Jareth seemed about to speak, when Harry interrupted again. "And don't forget to charm the ladies, I know."

"Well," Jareth smiled in relief and suddenly brightened up. "Now we have the part of a doting parent out the way, I must dash. I promised Sarah I would meet her for lunch in the Labyrinth gardens."

"Well, bye then, Jareth," and looking around to make sure that no-one was watching him, quickly hugged Jareth who smiled down at him and then disappeared from the platform in a puff of glitter. Harry suddenly felt a pang of homesickness but waved it aside as he made his way to the train. He made a small movement of his wrist which lightened his trunk enough to lift it into the train and then started looking around for a compartment. Finally lighting upon one with several girls in it, he opened the door and bowed elegantly to the girls.

"My ladies, it is an honour to meet you. May I humbly present myself to be Harry Potter who is in search of a seat that only you ladies can provide."

The compartment, which appeared to be filled with several first and second year girls, stared at him, before a blonde girl spoke up. "Um, sure, you can sit with us, Harry. I'm Susan Bones, and this is Hannah Abbott, and we're both in first year. Lucy Edmonds and Emma Ford are both in second year."

Harry smiled at them all and sat down in a free seat. They chatted easily although there were times when the girls remembered that it was **Harry Potter **they were talking to, and blushed and stammered. The older girls told them about the teachers and the first year work load when asked.

"Oh Professor Sprout is lovely. She's the Herbology teacher and head of Hufflepuff and she's always ready to help us with work and other things." The girls reassured them.

"But Professor Snape is absolutely awful. He's always really grumpy and loves taking points off all the houses except Slytherin, but that's because he's head of Slytherin. He loves taking points off Gryffindor especially. He teaches Potions and if anyone makes a tiny mistake, he takes points off them like there's no tomorrow." Emma whispered conspiratorially.

"The other teachers are alright. Professor McGonagall; she teaches Transfiguration and she's head of Gryffindor and she's really strict but fair and there's also-"

"Excuse me, I don't suppose you've seen a toad, have you," came a voice from the door to Harry's apartment. "It's just a boy has lost his."

Harry looked round, and smiled apologetically. "No, sorry, but it'll probably turn up somewhere. Are you a first year as well?" The girl nodded. "Do you want to come sit with us?"

The bushy-haired girl stepped in and sat down on the free seat. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said, smiling uneasily round the compartment, obviously uncomfortable with not knowing anyone. Susan again introduced the other girls and Harry, and Hermione gaped.

"**You're** Harry Potter! I've read all about you; you're in a lot of books, you know." Harry nodded dismissively. She gasped as Harry stood up in one smooth movement, stepping over to her to bend and kiss her hand. 'Never too early to start,' he thought, smirking.

"My lady," he murmured, "It is an honour to meet one so beautiful." A lesser girl might immediately have swooned. But this was Hermione and we must not forget that she is made of very strong stuff. She blinked in shock once and nodded weakly at Harry.

Harry's only reaction was to grin mischievously at her and returned to his seat. This allowed Hermione to give him a full once-over as he walked back, and she blinked in shock again. Harry looked just like that character she'd watched in a movie when she was younger but like a mini-version. He had the tight trousers and a ruffled shirt as well as black leather boots. Now, if only she could remember the name of that film. She shook her head out of the clouds and joined in upon the conversation. They were talking about which houses they wanted to go into. Lucy was in Hufflepuff and Emma was in Ravenclaw. Susan and Hannah both wanted to go into Hufflepuff since "we're probably not reckless enough for Gryffindor, not clever enough for Ravenclaw and aren't very cunning."

Hermione wanted to go into Ravenclaw: "I've read all about the houses in Hogwarts, A History and Ravenclaw seems the nicest. I've heard it has its own private library as well!"

Emma nodded. "It does. Most of the older students use the real library though since it's got a larger number of books from which to choose from for their research."

Harry simply shrugged and smirked when the girls asked him which house he wanted to go into and any further questioning was cut off as the driver announced that they would be arriving in Hogsmeade in half an hour. The girls all started to get ready, but they were interrupted by the arrival of a short blonde boy. He opened the compartment door, and exclaimed

"So this is where you are, Potter! I've been searching the train for you. Draco Malfoy; it's a ...pleasure to meet you," he said, looking Harry up and down with slight disdain.

Harry looked back coolly. "Is there a problem, Draco Malfoy?" This was said with a faint note of dislike in his voice but this was not noticed by any of the others in the compartment.

He had heard of the Malfoys through Jareth who had casually mentioned what they had done in the war. "Not as good as I could have done," Jareth commented scornfully. It was times like those Harry was reminded of how dangerous Jareth really was.

"Well, I was just wondering whether you would like to come sit with us?" Draco said. "It's rather obvious you could use better company." He continued with a contemptuous glance at Hermione.

"Better company than what, exactly?" Harry asked icily, employing a deadly soft tone that he had heard Jareth use many a time when dealing with complete idiots that had been wished away.

Draco obviously hadn't noticed the warning tone because he continued blithely with "well, a Mudblood," whilst jerking his head towards Hermione. She gasped. She didn't know what it meant, but from Draco's looks at her, it wasn't anything good.

Harry stood up. "I'll thank you not to call my friends names like those, Malfoy. You appear to have forgotten that my mother was a Muggleborn as well, so any insult you make towards my friends, you make towards my parentage. The next time you make any slurs against my friends and family, you shall be Bogged."

Malfoy had finally recognised the dangerous tone Harry was speaking in but he still took no notice of the threat. "And what exactly does being bogged do then?" he asked patronisingly.

Harry smirked maliciously. "I think I'd prefer to demonstrate actually. Squod!" There was a small pop and a small goblin appeared in the middle of the compartment and upon seeing Harry, he bowed deeply.

"Squod, Master Malfoy here would enjoy experiencing the pleasures of being Bogged."

The goblin smiled proudly and assured Harry that Malfoy would be placed into the Bog immediately. As he popped off with Malfoy, he couldn't help thinking that King Jareth couldn't have chosen a better heir. After depositing the boy in the Bog, he hurried to see King Jareth who was in the middle of entertaining Miss Sarah. He told them of the Bogging, and Jareth smirked. Only six hours into the new school year, and he was Bogging people. Jareth himself had only made it to eight hours when he'd first left his kingdom.

Harry's smirk grew as he imagined the experience poor Malfoy was having. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost. He turned round to see the girls who were looking at him with awe and slight fear. Hermione spoke up first.

"Thanks Harry. For defending me."

"Ah, it was nothing. I defend my friends, and you're my friend so..." Harry shrugged it off.

"It's not nothing, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "You helped me. Not many people are willing to do that for someone they've only just met."

Harry didn't push it, preferring to stick his head out the window and see how far they were from the platform. To his surprise, they were pulling up beside it.

"Hey, we're there!" he exclaimed. Turning back round, he pulled his trunk off the rack, and towed it through the door. Looking behind, he noticed Hermione, Susan and Hannah were following him, whilst Lucy and Emma were making their way towards a line of carriages.

He halted. "Where are they going?"

"They're second years so they take the carriages but we take the boats since we're first years. It said so in Hogwarts, A History." Hermione answered promptly.

"First years over 'ere!"

Harry turned towards the tall man who was standing at the end with a lantern in his hand. His eyes widened; half-giants were very rare in Belowground. The half-giant started walking with the first years stumbling after him in the darkness. After walking for a few minutes, they arrived at the dock and Harry got into the same boat as Hermione, Susan and Hannah. Sailing around the bend, he heard the awed gasps of the others as they first set eyes on Hogwarts. Harry was not very impressed. Banquets in Belowground were usually ten times as flamboyant with their decorations; Jareth had once told him that every king strived to outdo the others, and the Elf King was particularly competitive.

Arriving at the other docks, Harry jumped out first and politely helped the girls out, smirking as he did so, and walking up to the gates, he started a conversation with Hermione about what they were to expect at Hogwarts. The half-giant banged the doors twice, before a old witch opened them and thanked Hagrid for bringing them this far. Introducing herself as Professor McGonagall, she guided them into the waiting room next to the Great Hall and started telling them about the rules of Hogwarts. Harry didn't listen. Why should he if he was planning to cause as much trouble as possible in his seven years at Hogwarts. And if he got expelled, it was entirely possible for him to find another school. Jareth didn't mind Durmstrang – he said he quite liked the reputation it had. And after all, who wouldn't want the Boy-Who-Lived? Harry only noticed they were moving when Susan elbowed him as they were walking into the Great Hall, and a red-haired boy snorted with laughter as he noticed Harry being awoken from his daze. The first years all lined up, and Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to announce the first student's name.

"Allan-" but was interrupted by a POP which heralded the arrival of Draco Malfoy after his experience with the Bog. He fell to the floor, landing near Susan who turned up her nose and said quite loudly, "Malfoy, you smell!"

At this there was an outburst of laughter from the nearby students, and as Harry glanced up at the teachers' table, he noticed one black-haired man with a hooked nose who was looking extremely exasperated at the goings-on.

"May I continue with the Sorting?" Professor McGonagall asked frostily. "Providing there are no more disruptions."

At this she glared at Malfoy, who started stammering that it wasn't his fault and it was all Potter's and... Nobody would ever know what he said next as he was quickly shut up with a Silencing spell. Nobody was entirely sure who did it either but Hermione had a suspicious look in her eye as she glanced at Harry who was looking much too innocent for her liking.

The Sorting continued with "Allan, Sophie" being Sorted into Gryffindor and next was "Abbot, Hannah" who was quickly sorted into Hufflepuff. Likewise "Bones, Susan," went into Hufflepuff and Harry smiled at the looks of happiness on their faces as they were welcomed into their new House. Seeing the students being Sorted in alphabetical order, Harry sidled up to Hermione and whispered to her.

"Can you do me a huge favour, Hermione?" she turned to look at him, her curiosity provoked, and nodded.

"Can you ask the hat to sort Malfoy into another house, any house but Slytherin?"

"Why?" Hermione asked. "I thought he really wanted to go into Slytherin, and... are you causing trouble?"

"Please, Hermione." Harry urged. "You saw what he was like on the train; plus, it would be funny." Harry added with a smirk on his face. Hermione thought about it, obviously remembering the insult from Malfoy, and then nodded reluctantly.

"Fantastic! Thanks Hermione." Harry said with a sigh of relief and quickly hugged her.

Then "Granger, Hermione," was called, and Harry smiled again as she sat on the stool. Eventually, she was sorted into Ravenclaw, and she gave Harry a quick nod as she walked to her table.

And then there was "Malfoy, Draco." Harry's eyes gleamed.

The hat sat on his head for quite a long time, whilst Draco started to look more and more panicked before it called out, "Hufflepuff!"

There was a silence in the hall: the Slytherins all looked absolutely gobsmacked, the Gryffindors appeared to be laughing, the Ravenclaws were whispering amongst themselves, and the Hufflepuffs started to clap uncertainly as Draco got off the stool, very pale, and made his way towards the Hufflepuff table. He sat down, smiling very faintly at the other students; Harry thought he was probably in shock, especially after that embarrassment earlier.

And then came "Potter, Harry."

Professor McGonagall's voice was heard over the crowd of murmuring students. The boy in question sauntered up to the stool and, swinging around, sat down on it. The last thing the hall saw of Harry Potter's face before the hat descended upon it was a very mischievous smirk, and Professor McGonagall felt a chill in the air as if someone had walked over her grave. The last time she had seen that smirk was upon the faces of James Potter and Sirius Black, and more recently, upon Fred and George Weasleys' faces.

"Well, my boy, it's a pleasure to finally meet the son of James Potter."

"It's nice to meet you too, Mr Hat," Harry replied politely.

"A charmer just like your adopted father, I see," the hat said, visibly appearing to chuckle. "You've been up to a lot of things, I believe, such as having the idea to have me sort Draco Malfoy somewhere else other than Slytherin. So, where to put you, eh? You've certainly got the bravery for Gryffindor and the cunning for Slytherin. You have the intellect of a Ravenclaw as well. So where to put you…" the hat mused. "Slytherin could do you wonders, you know."

"Well, if it's no trouble, Mr Hat, may I ask for a house?" Harry asked respectfully.

"I suppose so. I must admit I am quite bewildered as where to put you so a suggestion would be quite helpful."

"You can read my mind, right, Mr Hat? And you know where I've been living for the past five years? Well, I was talking to Jareth about it, and he made a suggestion…"

"Oh, I see." The hat said, almost appearing to smirk. "Yes, we could make those arrangements. So, it'll have to be…"

_Author's Note: I'm sorry, but I really wanted to end it on a cliffhanger which also explains why it's so long. It's quite evil of me, especially since I mentioned I might not be updating for a while, so sorry to anyone who really wanted to know. I suppose if you're desperate, you could review and I'll give you a hint. But now, I'd quite like to know what house you think Harry's going to end up in. I know which one I'm going to put him into, but if someone can give me a good reason as to why I should put him in a certain house, then I'd be happy to reconsider. So, time for the multi-choice question: A) Good? B) Bad? C) Fantastic D) Awful? or E) You have a similar/another opinion that you'd love to put in a review? But please review. I would really appreciate knowing your opinions unless it's something bad in which case, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say it. Unless it's constructive. And only then. Bye bye for now._


	4. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I am not JKR and I don't own Labyrinth, which I am actually very sad about. I mean, who wouldn't jump at the chance to own a bit of Jareth. Plus his clothes were cool. So, here it is: the fourth chapter. I was tempted to write a bit more, but I was home this weekend, and I really couldn't be bothered to write anymore anyway. Plus you guys were saying update soon, and I really wanted some more reviews so here's the product. I actually wanted to put some figures out on here as well since I am truly amazed at the response I've gotten so far._

_Story Alerts: 97!_

_Favourite Story: 48!_

_Reviews: 58!_

_Does anyone else notice the discrepancy between the number of reviews and people putting me on story alerts? If you're going to put my story on story alert or favourite it, at least say why, please._

**Chapter 3**

"Hufflepuff!" the hat shouted to the Hogwarts student body and teachers.

Harry smirked before the hat was taken off him and he slid off the stool. Looking at the teachers' table, he saw the bearded old man looking surprised. It was probably because he hadn't gone into Gryffindor like his parents had. The greasy black-haired man he had noticed earlier looked as if he was sucking a lemon. 'Oh,' Harry thought with an evil grin that could have put even Jareth to shame, 'Professor Snape. They would have some fun...' If Snape had used Legilmency then, he would have probably rethought his plans to humiliate the boy. In fact, he probably would have steadily risen from the table, power-walked out of the Great Hall, ran to his office and flooed to Timbuktu.

The hall was quite silent until some of the Hufflepuffs started to clap which was soon taken up by the entire table. Striding over to the end of the table, he sat down and smiled at Susan and Hannah, and as he looked across the table, Malfoy even now appeared to be in shock, and still smelt quite badly.

"You alright, Malfoy?" Harry asked, grinning at him evilly. "Because you certainly don't smell alright."

This was probably not the wisest thing to say as it quickly broke Malfoy out of his shock. His eyes widened as he saw Harry across the table and then narrowed.

"You!" he hissed. "You made me smell. You made me a Hufflepuff!"

His voice was rising into a shriek and some of the older Hufflepuffs looked around in annoyance and shushed him. Harry was quite amused with Malfoy's furious face; he hadn't seen someone so furious in a long time. Nobody Belowground got the Goblin King mad if they valued their lives, so it would probably have to be Uncle Vernon he'd last seen enraged. It was quite amusing to bait him and see if his forehead vein appeared. Could this mean a new hobby at Hogwarts? He rather thought so.

"Oh, calm down, Malfoy," Harry said lazily. "It's not like it had any harmful effects, and it taught you not to insult my friends as well. Besides, we're going to be in a dorm for the next seven years so you'd better learn not to hold a grudge."

"Is that a threat?" Malfoy hissed. "My father will hear about this!"

"Oh?" Harry drawled. "Just like he's going to hear that you're in Hufflepuff?"

Malfoy flushed at the reminder. "Well, I bet you had something to do with it," he whispered furiously, determined that Harry would not get the last word.

"How much?" Harry grinned which only earned him a glare from Draco who promptly then started to ignore Harry. Harry merely rolled his eyes and turned to watch the rest of the Sorting. It was currently on a boy named Weasley who went into Gryffindor, and then Zabini who went into Slytherin. 'Aah, finally!' Harry thought with impatience. 'The food.' He was eager to see how it compared to Belowground feasts: the food turned out to be extremely delectable but Harry was quite saddened to see there were none of the Belowground delicacies. Alas, the kitchens did not appear to have any fire crabs or chicken cooked in goblin ale. The feast was finished with a rousing occurrence of the school song; Harry sang it at an unhurried waltz-like pace and was quite amused to see two red-headed boys at the Gryffindor table singing it at a very slow dirge-like tempo. Dumbledore applauded them as they finished.

"Goodnight students! If the first years will follow the prefects, you will all be taken back to your houses so that you can have a good night's sleep in order to be bright and bushy in the morning!" he said jollily.

Harry did actually feel very tired; it had come on rather suddenly and at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to sink into a nice, comfy bed and sleep like a log until morning. He mentally told his legs to start moving otherwise he feared he'd fall asleep at the table, and looking around, he saw other students in the same predicament. Waving goodnight to Hermione, he followed the Hufflepuff prefects out the door and down a flight of stairs to their common room. A red-headed prefect said the password loud enough for even the first years right at the back to be able to hear: _deception_. Harry blinked. This was unexpected. Could it be that the Hufflepuffs were already hiding something from the other students? As he entered, he saw the head of house standing in the middle of the common room. Her appearance had changed to something fiercer, and when she started speaking, he knew Hufflepuff was not as it seemed. Harry grinned slowly. Perfect.

"First years." Professor Sprout was addressing them. "You are now representatives of Hufflepuff and as such it will behove you to behave in a manner expected of Hufflepuffs. This means working hard, and playing fair in public. However, in private, you are free to act as you desire. If this means releasing your wild side then so be it. After all, there's fact behind the rumour that the Hufflepuffs hold the best parties." At this she grinned wickedly. "The other houses think that the rejects end up in here, but this is the house for the best of all. This is the house where students are placed under no pressure and because of this; we can do whatever we want. Gryffindors are fondly known as cannon fodder; they call themselves brave when reckless would probably be the best word to use. Hufflepuffs wait until needed and then map out the situation. Ravenclaws are seen as the brainiest. Hufflepuffs read only what they need to know, not just because they feel they have to read anything and everything that appears in their path. Slytherins are seen as the cunning and ambitious. But isn't it more cunning to hide oneself in a house that is not known for cunning and that everyone trusts implicitly? More future Dark Lords have come out of Hufflepuff than any other house; including Slytherin. Luckily, this trend has not been noticed. This is because our students hide behind the machinery, waiting until the time is right. These are the ones who become Minister of Magic and hold other such high-ranking jobs. Any questions?"

"Um, Professor?" said a boy who Harry recognised as Justin Finch-Fletchley and who had a look of fear and awe on his face. "What happens if we don't really have any of these qualities?"

Professor Sprout smiled kindly at him. "Well, those students are useful in that they throw possible people who might realise our secret off the scent, so you see; they are just as necessary as the other students who later plan to become figureheads in the Ministry."

"I have another question." Harry spoke up.

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"What happens if somebody tries to release this secret?"

"It depends on how far they are willing to take it," she answered. "Most people would not believe this of a Hufflepuff, but if they have proof, they might have a nasty accident in which they lose all memory of this secret." At this, her smile was slightly predatory and there was a collective shiver up and down the backs of all the new Hufflepuffs. "We usually find a Memory Charm is necessary but we never hurt the person in any way who it is being performed upon. Well, if that's all?" she looked around expectantly but there were no more questions. "Then it's off to bed with you. Goodnight!" Professor Sprout said cheerfully.

Harry followed the other first years to the dormitory, and as if on autopilot, he undressed and near fell into bed. He managed to find sleep quickly, and as he drifted off, he wondered how the Goblin Kingdom was faring.

Hermione cornered him after their first lesson together. They had not had the chance to see each other since before the feast as they had been separated from then on, and it was only after Herbology that Hermione was able to talk to him as they walked back up together.

"You know," she mused, "when I met Harry Potter; I had expected that he would go into the house of the daring and reckless. Not the house that everyone looks down on. Or he might have even gone into the house of the cunning and ambitious judging by his display on the train."

Harry smirked. She had caught on quickly but hadn't quite put all the pieces together yet. "Well I thought I could use my fame to give Hufflepuff some feeling of being less inferior to the other houses. You know, since everyone thinks that's where all the rejects go. But now" Harry cried, striking a valiant pose, "I will help the badgers to reach notoriety in the school!"

Hermione simply looked at him. "Don't you mean fame?"

"Aah, my dear Hermione," Harry said jovially, linking arms. "You have so much to learn." At this Hermione spluttered and tried to yank her arm away from Harry but he kept a tight hold. "I don't mean books-learning, don't worry; you're probably ahead of most of the third years there. No, what I mean is doing things and then blaming them on someone else. Such as playing a prank on the Gryffindors. Nobody would ever suspect the dear, hardworking Puffs, no. They would go for the most obvious culprits: the Slytherins, and vice versa naturally."

"But that's wrong!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's not fair if they get blamed for something they didn't do."

"They'd probably be happy to be given the credit for such amazing pranks." Harry said casually. "Anyway," Harry moved off the topic of pranks, "you were questioning the hat's decision to place me in Hufflepuff, weren't you?"

"Oh, yes!" Hermione remembered. "Well, I don't think you were originally meant to be in Hufflepuff, so you must have asked to be there, but why? ...Unless you didn't like any of the other houses, or you wanted to hide something, maybe?" She looked at Harry questioningly but he only smirked, and inclined his head in indication that she was on the right track. "Well, nobody wants to hide bravery or intelligence so that leaves ambition and cunning!" Hermione realised excitedly. "And being in a house like Hufflepuff is a perfect way to hide cunning! Harry, that's genius of you!"

"Why, thank you, dear lady," Harry said, bowing flamboyantly. "And here we are." He added, walking up the steps. "See you later!" It was only as Hermione was getting ready to go to sleep that she realised he hadn't actually confirmed her thoughts.

000000000000000000

Harry was bored with the lessons. He knew all this stuff anyway; being constantly surrounded with the Goblin King's magic did tend to teach one some magic of their own. Casually flicking his wand at the feather, he sent it soaring into the air and watched as it drifted down to land on Padma Patil's head. When she noticed the feather, she glanced around to see who had sent it and blushed when Harry nodded friendlily at her. Harry's eyes gleamed. Perhaps this was another recruit for his possible harem?

"Five points to Hufflepuff!" Flitwick squeaked in delight, nearly falling off his stack of books. He hadn't seen a student this talented since Lily Evans, and was certainly glad the boy had appeared to inherit his mother's talent.

Harry's first flying lesson was also something of a success. Despite having never flown before, he turned out to be surprisingly good. They had all lined up, and when told to say up, the broom had practically flown into his grip. He found this had happened to most of the first years – Susan Bones stood next to him with the broom grasped in her hand as if she had been playing for years: she probably had, Harry realised. Opposite Harry stood Hermione who appeared to be one of five whose broom had not jumped up when told to. Padma, who was standing next to her, glanced at her sympathetically and started to help her. One of the highlights for Harry was when Draco, who had been flying for years, was told he had the grip all wrong. When he had boasted about flying near helicopters, Hermione had calmly dismissed his theory on the grounds that they flew much higher. He had sulked for the rest of the day. But otherwise the flying lesson went well; nobody had fallen off like that Longbottom had in the earlier Gryffindor and Slytherin lesson.

Harry's success in his lessons was equalled by the failure in his Potions lessons. Professor Snape had started the term with a scathing lecture for the first years and then proceeded to ask Harry several questions that were at least OWL Level. Unfortunately for Snape, Harry had managed to answer them all correctly. Some measures were necessary for Snape, Harry believed: perhaps some pranks designed to humiliate the man as he had tried to do to Harry? A visit to the Weasley twins was possibly in order; he had heard tales of their being experienced in such...delicate matters.

Enlisting the help of the Weasley twins proved to be a very successful endeavour as throughout September and October, Snape was plagued by weekly pranks. One week for instance, his hair mysteriously vanished. He woke up to find a note by his bedside saying "_We thought we'd help you with your hair since greasy is __**so**__last year! Lots of love, the Slytherins!_" One could hear the screaming from the Great Hall. Aah, fun times.

Sitting in the Great Hall, Harry waited impatiently for the Halloween feast to start. In honour of the special occasion, the twins and Harry had planned a seasonal prank for Snape. A silent jinx sent towards his food would hopefully turn Snape into his true form: a bat which nearly everyone in the school suspected he really was. Unluckily, this plan was disrupted by the outburst from the Defence Against Dark Arts Professor.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" yelled Professor Quirrell as he ran into the Great Hall and promptly fainted.

"Wow," Harry commented. "You can certainly see how he got his position."

Outbreaks of nervous mutterings appeared all along the tables until Dumbledore stood, and waving for silence. When this didn't work, he started shouting.

"Students! Remain calm! Your house prefects will lead you back to your houses in an orderly fashion."

Harry snorted. "Because that's so much safer than staying together."

He rose along with the other students, before hearing an outbreak of whispering from the Ravenclaw table.

"Where's Hermione?"

"Isn't she in the girls' toilets downstairs because she was crying?" At this, some of the Ravenclaws looked accusingly at Terry Boot who looked slightly guilty.

"I didn't know she'd take it like that." He said hastily, trying to defend himself.

Padma glared at him. "You called her a bossy, overbearing, know-it-all! How would anyone react to that positively?"

Terry simply shrugged and jogged after the other Ravenclaws. Padma exhaled angrily and went after him and the rest of the Ravenclaws. Unfortunately for Terry, Harry had overheard the conversation.

"Blark?" Harry asked calmly, and with a pop, a goblin appeared.

"Yes, master?"

"Take a Mr Terry Boot to the Bog for about 10 minutes. That should be enough time for him to learn his lesson and for the teachers to not have to worry about a missing student. And make sure he learns his lesson well." Harry said with a very malevolent smirk.

"Yes, master," the goblin said, nodding furiously and darted off after the fleeing Ravenclaws.

It was only then Harry noticed there was no-one else in the Great Hall. He sighed mentally and sprinted after the Hufflepuffs.

"Hey, wait!" Harry shouted to Draco who was hurrying along with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. "Hermione! She's down in the dungeons! She won't know about the troll!"

Draco slowed, looking anxiously between the Hufflepuffs and Harry who was standing in the corridor. On the one hand, she was a Mudblood, but on the other there was Harry who would be very displeased if he did not help and that meant the Bog.

"Fine, but if we die saving her, I'm going to bring us back from the dead so I can torture you for the rest of our natural lives!" he said angrily, hurrying along with Harry. Malfoys did not run, you see; running was a very low-class thing to do.

Harry rounded the corner, and upon seeing the troll in front of him, started running backwards as fast as possible. Unfortunately, this had the detrimental effect of running into Malfoy whose momentum pushed them forward. Right into the path of the troll, who upon seeing them, gurgled in delight and raised his club. Seeing this, Harry panicked and shouted, "I wish the Goblin King was here!"

Jareth promptly appeared, and taking in the scene with one glance, banished the troll to the Bog and simply looked at Harry with disdain.

"You called me here for a troll? A troll? Honestly, Harry, a bit of a challenge would be nice once in a while, especially if I have to cut my evenings short. Particularly when my evenings are being spent with Sarah." He said, somewhat wistfully when he spoke Sarah's name.

"Well, if I had tried to do anything, it wouldn't have been fast enough." Harry snapped. "And then I'd be dead. How is Sarah, anyway? Still beating you?"

"No, actually. Sarah is presently sitting in the ballroom in confusion as she waits for me to reappear. And if anything, I am beating her." Jareth said haughtily.

Draco was watching the conversation between Harry and the Goblin King in bewilderment. "But you can't apparate inside Hogwarts." He said confused. Nobody listened. Listening to the conversation, Draco slowly started to put two and two together. The Bog and this new person were related. The man standing in front of him owned the Bog. He had given Harry the power to put him in the Bog. Therefore this man was responsible for the smell that had haunted him for the first two weeks of term and made everyone laugh at him. His father had sent him several furious letters blaming him for the loss of respect in the Malfoy name. Mentally shrieking in anger, he threw himself forward in order to take revenge for the humiliation he had suffered. Regrettably for Draco, the Goblin King had been well versed in assassination attempts from childhood and his reflexes were quick enough to catch the boy before he managed to actually touch him.

"Harry, what is this...boy trying to do to me?" Jareth said scornfully, looking down at Draco who was still trying to lunge forwards to hit Jareth.

"Uh, Draco? I wouldn't do that if I was you." Harry said nervously, watching the expression on Jareth's face becoming more and more irritated. "Really, Draco, it would be best for you to stop. As in right now...now...now? Jareth? Why did you turn him into a sheep?"

"I don't know actually," Jareth said, looking quite surprised. "I felt like it, I suppose."

"Well, could you turn him back? I wouldn't like to share my dorm with a sheep, and I don't think the others would either. Actually, I don't know whether Ernie would mind..." Harry trailed off. At this, the sheep baa-ed angrily and glared at Harry if such a thing was possible. "Oh, yeah, Draco doesn't want to be a sheep either."

"I am sure the goblins wouldn't mind a new...pet to play with," Jareth mentioned lazily. The sheep moved back several steps. "I have heard the fireys are looking for something else to play with." The sheep hid behind Harry's legs.

"Unfortunately, Jareth," Harry sighed, "we can't keep him as a sheep. His disappearance wouldcause some fuss. Now if you found another student who no-one wouldmiss, you could turn that one into a sheep but Draco's too well-known." Harry's demeanour suggested this argument had taken place many times before.

Jareth glared at his adopted son lackadaisically. His demeanour suggested Harry had won this argument. Again. Waving his hand carelessly at the sheep, Draco reappeared with a small crack. Harry winced. The smell was back to follow Draco, it seemed, and he couldn't help but chuckle as he pictured the blonde's reaction.

"Such a pity," Jareth remarked. "He looked much better as a sheep."

Draco glared. "My father will hear about this!"

"Oh, I look forward to that confrontation." Jareth purred in glee. "I haven't killed anyone in a while. And I suppose I could test one of the new delights of the Labyrinth."

"Oh? What is it?" Harry asked in excitement. The Labyrinth was good as it was, Harry thought, but it was quite outdated. Nothing had been done to improve it for about a century or so, and Harry often thought it could be much perked up with perhaps some several pitfalls; for example, if one were to say the word 'logical' coupled with a negative, that person would be transported back to the start of the Labyrinth. Really, Harry thought, Jareth would have a lot more goblins if he used tricks such as those. Though, on the other hand, Harry reasoned, he probably wouldn't have Sarah as a soon to be step-mother (at this rate anyway) if Jareth had used ruses like that. He was happy for Jareth and Sarah – they made a lovely couple. She was clever enough not to fall for his deceptions and kept his head from inflating through his arrogance. Jareth, in his turn, was intrigued by this girl who had defeated his Labyrinth and this curiosity had grown into a fascination which developed into something resembling love as his friendship with her advanced. Plus she'd make a better family than Harry's own blood family. The small glimpses of his life with his birth parents that he could actually remember were filled with love and warmth, and he had found something very close to that with the Goblin King, his subjects and Sarah.

"Oh my god! The Goblin King!" came a voice from a nearby doorway. Jareth turned round, raising himself to his full height and looked imperiously at Hermione who was looking out cautiously from the doorway. She eeped and shrank back, before noticing Harry and Draco, and unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh as she noticed the latter. Draco was wearing clothes that were peppered with holes along with white wool for hair and had the unmistakeable smell of the Bog hanging to him once again. He glared at her half-heartedly.

"That's where I recognised your clothes from, Harry. The Labyrinth!" Hermione spluttered as she matched up the odd things that happened around Harry. "You're the infamous Goblin King. And Harry is your heir?"

Jareth nodded, and preened. "It is nice to know of my eminence amongst mortals."

"Can you hear teachers or is it just me?" Draco suddenly asked, and when everyone quietened – Hermione was asking questions about what it was like to live Belowground, what their culture was like, was it really true that he used goblins as slave labour, and did Jareth not think they should be given rights; by the end of this questioning, the Goblin King was starting to look thoroughly irritated once again – they could indeed hear footsteps moving towards them.

Jarethlooked delighted. "ShouldI shout at them, and maybe torture them a little, for placing the students in danger? Not that I actually care about the students, but really, a chance like this should not go unnoticed."

"Um, probably not. They'll ask questions." Harry said. "**Those** questions."

"Ah, right." Jareth said, looking disappointed. "Well, I'll see you at Christmas, I suppose. Sarah's staying with us, by the way."

Harry nodded, pleased. Looking round at Draco and Hermione, he said goodbye awkwardly, scratching his head. Jareth only winked at him and vanished with a small noise, and just in time as the teachers came running round the corner. Professor McGonagall was in the lead, with Snape and Quirrel not far behind.

_Author's Note: Well, I hope you enjoyed_ _it! Any donations in the form of reviews are welcomed and very much_ _appreciated. Multi-choice question time: A) Good? B) Bad? C) Fantastic D) Awful? or E) You have a similar/another opinion that you'd love to put in a review? What did you think about the house choice? I think Hufflepuff has a bit of a boring reputation in the books so I decided to give them quite an exciting and mysterious one here. I might be slightly biased because I did one of the Hogwarts' house tests when I was younger and I ended up in Hufflepuff and I'd quite like to grow up in a house like that. Who else did one of them? __Oh, by the way, Dudley's ending in the first chapter was similar to that of another story but Sarah ended up watching the ball forever and ever. But as it's not really relevant to the plot, I guess it doesn't matter so much. I just wanted to say because my conscience was nagging at me about how I should have given proper credit where it's due; it's a really good if slightly creepy story but I can't remember the name or the author. _


	5. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer - Here it is. The thing that makes every writer die just a little on the inside when they have to admit the truth to others. I don't own Labyrinth. Or Harry Potter. Well, I hope you like it, and don't forget to review._

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" McGonagall gasped. "Of all the stupid things you could have done in a magic school, you chose to go after a troll? What could have possibly possessed you to do so?"

Harry saw Hermione about to open her mouth but quickly interrupted, giving a very woebegone look that fooled no-one except for McGonagall, who looked as if she would believe anything that came out of his mouth. Snape merely snorted and glared; Quirrel wasn't really looking at Harry but almost seemed to have a sneer on his face – odd, Harry thought, and mentally filed that away to decipher for later- Draco was rolling his eyes, and Hermione had a strange look of apprehensiveness, happiness, and slight terror on her face. What had Jareth been telling her, Harry wondered, but then got onto the matter in hand.

"We got lost, Professor," Harry said, tears welling up in his eyes. "We were so worried about the troll that we lost the other Hufflepuffs, and then we tried to get onto one of the staircases and it led us here, and we were so scared!" he finished, nearly crying.

The professor looked quite flustered, evidently alarmed by the presence of a crying child. Behind her, Snape had on a very strange face: his lips had been turned slightly into something which appeared to be a grin, and his eyes held the bugged out expression of someone who had just been slugged in the stomach.

"Well, come along, then child." Professor McGonagall eventually said, looking like she was torn between running away and approaching Harry. The latter option had apparently won out because she stepped closer and awkwardly put a hand around his shoulder, guiding him towards the Hospital Wing. Hermione followed uncertainly, whilst Draco trailed along behind his godfather who was also following the other three. Snape looked back over his shoulder, noticing Quirrel had disappeared. His eyes narrowed. The uproar had finished, so Dumbledore would probably be watching the Stone. Trying to concentrate on the rather one-sided conversation his godson was having with him, he had to ask Draco to repeat his question.

"I was saying," he said, somewhat impatiently, "that you have a gash in your leg. Why?"

Snape ignored the question, and refused to say any more when Draco pressed him about it except for "Bloody dogs."

They walked along in companionable silence until Snape broke it with "So. A Hufflepuff, Draco?"

The boy in question flushed. "It wasn't my fault," he protested. "It was Potter's. He did something to the Hat!"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Despite not having had it on at that point?"

"Well, Granger must have done something!"

Snape gave a derisive laugh. "Miss Granger doing something so wayward? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?"

"Well, Potter must have told her to." Draco said petulantly.

"Perhaps." Snape allowed. "I believe that boy could do anything if he set his mind to it. He seems rather Slytherin for a Hufflepuff. Tricking Minerva like that. Why, I don't believe I've seen anything quite as amusing as her expression for a while."

Draco snorted. "He didn't do anything to the troll though. There was bluh!" Draco struggled to get the words out, and Snape looked on, almost concerned.

Trying to get the words out, Draco nearly didn't hear the words whispered softly in his ear. "Really, child, you think I would let my presence here tonight be spoken of so easily?" the voice whispered with a hint of a laugh in the tone. Draco jumped, looking frantically around for the Goblin King.

Snape was actually starting to look rather concerned, watching his godson jump around as if looking for someone when they were the only two in the hallway.

"Draco," he began, and was almost slightly amused as he saw the boy jump even higher. "You are currently looking like a Hufflepuff. Desist at once."

Draco pouted.

* * *

Harry was currently sitting in one of the Hospital Wing's beds, eating chocolate and trying his best to look sad. At least until the teachers disappeared, murmuring softly about the things the children had to go through nowadays, and wasn't it so much better in the old days, even if privately the Professors were thinking the exams were getting easier, which they didn't approve of but it was all done by the government so let's blame Fudge.

Hermione was sitting in a chair by his bed, also waiting until the teachers had gone, and she finally burst out with "The Goblin King is your father! How?"

Harry looked rather amused at the look on her face. It was a mix between desperate curiosity and slight fear about what she was getting into. He was quite tempted to leave her hanging, _but_ she had become one of his good friends in quite a short time.

He simply shrugged and explained the story. "It began when Dudley wished me away after he'd watched the film." A smile shot across his face. "He'd had to whine a lot to see the film because Uncle Vernon kept going on about it being magic and therefore he shouldn't see it but after a couple of days of whining, he finally gave in."

Hermione had a disgusted look on her face. "Your cousin sounds like a total brat."

"Oh, he is." Harry cheerfully agreed. "But he sent me to Jareth, so, I'm grateful to him for that, I guess. He wished me away and didn't try to get me out of the Labyrinth so Jareth attempted to turn me into a goblin."

"What!" Hermione exclaimed. "How could he do – oh, right. That's what he does to the wished away. But why didn't it work?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Nor does Jareth, I think. All I do know is that when he tried to Change me, his magic merged with mine, and he adopted me somehow."

Hermione had a thoughtful look on her face. "I would assume that other wizarding children have been wished away before?"

Harry nodded. "They got turned though."

Hermione hummed in thought. "So why did you not change?"

Harry simply shrugged again. He had no wish to tell her about the prophecy, but it did seem as if she could be trusted in the future. Evidently sensing that he no longer wished to talk about his adoption, Hermione changed the topic.

"So, is Sarah...was her story actually real?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. She wished away Toby and rescued him, but she sometimes comes back to visit Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus. I met her in the Labyrinth once and she thought I was running the Labyrinth. She got pretty angry at Jareth about that because I must have been about 8 or 9, so quite young, and he waited for her to finish her rant before he told her that he'd adopted me. And now, they're dating."

"_Really_?" Hermione's mouth was an 'O' of surprise. "Wow. I mean, the UST between them was pretty obvious in the Labyrinth, I guess, but I'd never have thought she'd agree to date him."

Harry stretched. "Yep. Sometimes Toby comes over, and we play with the goblins. You should come during the holidays."

Hermione blinked. "You mean, come over, like a friend?" There was something serious in this conversation now, Harry recognised. It wasn't just the planning of two eleven year-olds, but there was something quite anxious in Hermione's tone.

"Ye-es."Harry answered slowly, and seeing the relieved expression in Hermione's eyes, suddenly realised the presence of the anxiety. Being so bookish and rather bossy could not have gained her many friends at her primary school, and upon coming to Hogwarts, where the same qualities put people off her, could not have been easy. "Yes," he said more firmly and hugged her. Hermione blushed, but hugged him back.

"Oh," the startled voice of the nurse came. "I didn't realise you two were speaking privately."

"No, it's alright, Madam Pomfrey," Harry said quickly, wiping some unseen tears from his eyes. "Hermione was just making sure I was alright. It's just that...that troll was so scary!" And he burst out into a fresh flood of tears. Hermione simply rolled her eyes.

* * *

After the Halloween incident, Quirrel had a fresh set of eyes watching him in suspicion. There had been something about Quirrel that seemed too coincidental: why, instead of being at the Feast, was he running all over the castle? Harry had set Blargle to watch, and the small goblin faithfully reported to Harry every time Quirrel went anywhere other than the Great Hall, his office and classroom, and the corridors connecting the former and latter. He was spending an awful lot of time by the third floor corridor, Blargle told him, and Harry frowned. What was behind there?

"Oh, dear God!" was the first thing Harry blurted out upon seeing the massive three-headed dog behind the door. In retrospect, this was probably not the best thing to say at that point. Well, it would have been fine to say, I suppose, if he'd said it more quietly, as the loud tone he did speak in had the unfavourable effect of waking the dog up. Its right head cracked an eye open, and after seeing the small piece of meat handily standing rather close, Fluffy immediately shot up and lunged for the meat, which had no time to do anything but squeak.

Unluckily for Fluffy, his jaws closed on empty air, as the piece of meat that had been standing in front of him had been yanked out of the way and was disappearing out of the doorway. Hurriedly attempting to lunge forward again, poor Fluffy was not able to reach his snack before the door closed and he hit his nose on the door. Yelping, he retreated, lying back down to watch the door and vowing vengeance on the snack he had lost.

Said snack, however, was standing outside the door, patting himself over to make sure that he was still alive and breathing.

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" hissed Snape. "And don't you dare start crying; that won't work on me as it did Professor McGonagall."

Harry met Snape's eyes, about to explain, but watched in stunned silence as the Potions Professor flew backwards, hitting the wall.

"Um, oops?" Harry offered.

The professor didn't stir.

"Sir?" Harry questioned, moving closer, and poking the unmoving body with his foot. It groaned.

A small goblin suddenly appeared with a crack, making Harry yelp again and jump backwards, and started bowing furiously to Harry, who looked at it in slight confusion.

"What do you want, Blargle?"

"Blargle wants to report that turban-man is talking, oh, yes, yes, talking." It nodded energetically.

"And...?"

"Turban-man is talking to himself, yes, yes, and there is a face on the back of his head. Evil, evil face, Blargle thinks. Gives Blargle shivers, yes, yes, when face talks back. Evil face!"

"Hmm," Harry said out loud. "Why does Professor Quirrel have a face on the back of his head?" As the goblin opened his mouth to reply..."Rhetorical question, Blargle," he closed his mouth.

There came another groan from Snape, who was slowly stirring.

"Right, good work, keep following him, Blargle." Harry said quickly. The goblin recognised the command to leave and quickly popped away before the greasy man saw him and realised that Master Harry was definitely not what he seemed.

"Um, sir? How do you feel?"

Snape stood up slowly, wincing as he did so, and dusted himself down. When he was satisfied with his appearance – well, as much as he could be, with a lovely black eye starting to make its mark on him – he shot a poisonous glare at Harry. In a voice with venom literally dripping off each word, he spoke slowly to Harry as if he was afraid he would pull out his wand and kill the boy standing in front of him. He probably would have, except it was awfully difficult to find work when one was in Azkaban. Seriously, have you ever tried it? I mean, trying to get references from the dementors is pretty much impossible, isn't it?

"Return to your house at once, Potter." Snape said very deliberately.

"But sir-"

"Now!" he hissed. "Right now!"

Seeing the twitching eyes, and the vein throbbing on his forehead, Harry decided that he probably should obey the very angry man in front of him before he got tossed back into the room with Fluffy or was blown up into very tiny pieces, and quickly moved away, keeping his eyes on Snape the whole time.

When Snape was sure that the boy was out of sight and out of hearing range, he slumped against the wall and groaned in pain. He turned and started limping back slowly. This was going to be a long walk and a lot of pain.

When he was finally slumped in his chair, having swallowed several painkilling potions, and healed his broken rib, he allowed himself to think about the very violent ejection of his Legilmency probe. The boy hadn't even noticed he was trying to Legilmens him, so how had Potter managed to throw him out of his mind? It appeared all was not what it seemed with the boy, and Snape smiled predatorily. Why, it seemed he had a new mission for the year.

_Yay! Creepy evil stalking time from Snape! So? What do you think? Didja like it? If so, review. If not, review anyway. I don't care if you can't be bothered. Review! Before I come and hunt you down, and hold a gun to your head to make you review. I'm not actually serious about the whole gun thing, don't worry. I wouldn't know where to get one. So thanks for reading! And hope you enjoyed it._


	6. Chapter 5

_Author's Note - It must be said. I do not own Harry Potter. Or Labyrinth._

_**On the contrary to what was said in the last chapter, one of the Dementors did kindly provide me with a reference when I asked for one. He (or maybe it was a she) handed over the reference of one Sirius Orion Black which described him as "a model prisoner" and "very willing to join in the chats with his guards." However, "Sirius did seem to have a problem with his fellow prisoners", and it was noted that "abuse was often hurled at them, especially one Bellatrix Lestrange, and other prisoners who had been convicted of following Lord Voldemort." The Dementors also provided a list of unusual wounds and illnesses, and it was noted that "many of these latter prisoners were found with rather large dog bites during the morning patrols" and in light of the discovery of Mr Black's Animagus form, it has been decided that they were linked. The report finished with a brief conclusion that "Sirius needs to learn to develop his communication skills but functions very well for a prisoner surrounded by a large number of soul-sucking Dementors."**_

**Chapter 5**

Snape was watching Harry. Everywhere the boy went, he would follow. Well, apart from the bathroom. However, unluckily for Snape's plans, Harry had noticed him since Fungin – another goblin - had notified him of this. It had become somewhat of a joke for Harry to go somewhere, and see how long it took Snape to realise that he was being misdirected, but he could simply not take the chance that on one of his trips, Harry would actually go somewhere that allowed Snape to realise what the boy was hiding from him. It was truly a mystery that Snape fully intended to solve. Perhaps, Snape thought slowly with a sinister smile (that caused a few who saw it to move back very slowly, and as soon as they were able to, run very fast away from Snape), it was time to bring in his Slytherin side. After the next Potions lesson with the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, he thought. Yes, that would do nicely...

Harry was getting rather freaked out by the looks that Snape was giving him. Although he hadn't stopped following him, he would first be the recipient of a blank face with a hint of evil and cunning in the eyes, which would grow into a sly smile (which had caused a few Gryffindors and Professor Quirrel to blanch when they saw him doing it) which would finally become a laugh of pure malevolence. Three days after this somewhat...unexpected smiling and laughing had started, anytime the Potions Professor was mentioned, there was a collective flinch, and several of the less brave students had minor break-downs.

Even McGonagall was unnerved by it. "Albus, you must do something about it!" she could be heard saying to Dumbledore in his office. "The man is smiling! And laughing! Severus is smiling and laughing! Everyone feels a sense of impending doom whenever he does it, and he's caused his annual breakdown rate to double in a week!"

Dumbledore merely hummed and plaited his beard, his eyes twinkling. "Don't worry, Minerva," he said soothingly. "I'm sure he'll stop soon; it's most probably just a phase he's going through."

"Albus, the man is thirty-one! He's too old to be going through phases." She stated despairingly. When would Albus bloody realise that he was completely out of touch with what was happening in Hogwarts? For Merlin's sake! The children were absolutely terrified of Severus at the moment and the numbers in the Infirmary went up sharply every time there was a Potions lesson. Not for the first time, Minerva wondered if Hogwarts needed a new Headmaster.

"Now, now, Minerva," he answered slightly patronisingly. "I'm sure it'll all be fine in the end." This was met with a huff and the slamming of his office door as his Deputy Headmistress stormed out, and Albus glanced up with a surprised look, and then returned to plaiting his beard, and picking a few lemon drops out of the jar and sucking on them.

"Potter? If you would care to stay behind?" Snape called loudly over the din of the class as they made their escape. The menace in this statement did most definitely not make it a choice and Harry gulped. This did not bode well for his future adventuring, and he watched in slight despair as all the others left the room, Hermione giving him a sympathetic look on her way out. Even Draco looked somewhat sorry for him.

Snape was relaxing on his chair, watching Harry as he approached with an eyebrow raised and a mocking smile on his face. "Mr Potter. Now, is there anything you'd care to tell me about your...activities?"

"Sorry, sir, but I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about." Harry replied, trying to look as innocent as he could. He failed.

"Come, come, Potter. I think you know exactly what I'm talking about." By this point, the smile on Snape's face had become rather predatory. Potter was a Hufflepuff after all – he'd probably crack within the next few seconds.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to break down and confess all the particulars of my evil plan?" Harry asked.

Snape blinked. Perhaps not then.

"Because, sir, there is no evil plan. I'm just a small, innocent, Hufflepuff first year who knows nothing about everything. A Hufflepuff wouldn't do anything evil, after all, would they, sir?"

Snape did find himself inclined to believe the boy, but there was a small nagging voice in the back of his head screaming something about trusting nobody. Especially Hufflepuffs. He had heard the rumours after all; Hufflepuffs were secretly the ones in control. They were the masterminds behind everything. They ruled the world. But they were just rumours. Right? He mentally threw the voice out of his head, and got on with the business in front of him.

"Mr Potter, I must admit you may have a point. Hufflepuffs are hardly known for being the most apt for evil plans, after all." Snape chuckled. Harry silently seethed on behalf of the Hufflepuff house, but also chuckled. '_Oh, if only he really knew_.' Harry thought gleefully. One day, he would know, and then all who had insulted the Hufflepuff house would rue the day they did so!

Snape was giving him an odd look. Perhaps he should have kept the evil laughter silent?

The voice was back in Snape's head. '_You_ _see_?' it cried triumphantly. '_The boy is evil! Evil, I_ _tell you!'_ and then proceeded to cackle madly. Snape called it the Gryffindor voice. But it did seem to have a point. If it was right, and he wasn't saying it was – after all, he called it a Gryffindor voice for a reason – then the boy had been even more Slytherin in his actions than Severus could ever have been at age eleven. He allowed himself a small smirk of triumph.

"Mr Potter. I believe we could perhaps come to some kind of accord."

The boy raised his eyebrow in an obvious sign to continue this most interesting start to a conversation.

"You will tell me where you've been going at night in your Invisibility Cloak, and in return, I shall not tell Professor McGonagall what you've been doing after curfew. Deal?" Snape asked pleasantly. Or pleasantly for him, at any rate. He hardly expected the boy to agree to the deal though. If he was as Slytherin as Severus thought he was, they would then engage in the art of a conversation between Slytherins: full of leading questions and significant comments. He did so look forward to them!

"Why Professor Snape. Blackmail?" Harry questioned with a sly smile. "Of course, I don't think Professor McGonagall should know that I may have been outside out of curfew. Unless..."

"Unless what?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Unless I tell Professor McGonagall that I saw it was you who let the troll in. After all, I believe she would most likely believe my word over yours..." he trailed off.

It appeared they were at a stalemate, and Snape snarled in irritation. How could he get the boy to break down? His musings were interrupted by Potter starting to speak again.

"But," Harry gave him an appraising glance. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "perhaps you could be useful. Yes, I rather think so. It would indeed be helpful to have someone like him around as well, don't you think?" questioning the shadows. Was the boy mad, Snape wondered? Talking to an empty part of the room? But as he glanced over there, he could have sworn he saw several pairs of bulbous yellow eyes staring back, and several chitters of agreement. Hmmm. Perhaps he should have his eyes checked.

Snape spluttered with irritation. "If anything, you would be useful to me! I am the older person here after all."

"Really?" Harry asked, with a raised eyebrow, and a slightly mocking smile. "Really now? Jareth!" And with a slight pop and a shower of glitter, Jareth appeared.

"Harry, thank God! You would not believe the day I've had! The chickens, I think, are planning to revolt with the goblins their unwilling – or willing, I'm not quite sure yet – slaves to help them. And Hoggle's decided to help the runners even more than he did so to Sarah, so I've had to leave him in one of the oubliettes. I do hope Sarah doesn't find out though..." he trailed off, suddenly noticing Snape.

He seemed to grow in stature as well as menace, and although Snape would never admit it, it scared him just a little. Honestly though? A lot. The power rolling off the man was greater than he had ever felt from the Dark Lord, even at the latter's peak, and he knew that if the Dark Lord were to ever engage with this man in a fight, it would not last long. At all.

"Harry, who _is _this? And why exactly did I have to appear in front of him?" Jareth asked, raising his head haughtily and sneering at Snape.

"Jareth, this is Professor Snape who teaches Potions here, and Professor Snape, this is the Goblin King who-"

"Glitters?" Snape interrupted, sneering. "The great Goblin King glitters? Who would -" His last sentence had likewise been interrupted by Jareth throwing Snape against the wall with his magic, curling tightly around Snape's throat, holding him two feet from the cobbled floor. Jareth was reluctantly impressed by the way Snape had managed to keep up his sneer and mocking eyebrow despite slowly turning blue from the lack of oxygen.

"Jareth. Put him down. I don't think you're allowed to do that anymore, after Sarah caught you the last time," Harry said slowly and calmingly. Privately, he found it quite amusing to see his teacher taken down a peg or two. Or put up a metre or two, he sniggered silently.

"But Harry," Jareth whined, "he's not even clean. Just look at the state of his hair!" slowly lowering the man down, who sagged and rubbed this throat as soon as the tendril of magic had disappeared from around his neck.

"'He' is right here." Snape said hoarsely yet icily, bristling and still rubbing his throat. This man reminded him of that arrogant pig James Potter; both the same character wise, and just what exactly was with the tousled big hair? And the extremely tight trousers?

"Your point is?" Jareth questioned with boredom clear in his tone, without turning to look at Severus.

"Look, Jareth. I think we need a contact in Hogwarts," Harry explained. "An adult would be useful, and no-one would ever suspect Snape of helping a Hufflepuff in his plans for-"

"Harry!" Jareth snapped. "We do not talk about those plans unless we're in the Underground. Remember?"

"Oh, right." Harry said, nodding ashamedly, and then throwing himself at Jareth's feet, "I'm so sorry, your majesty! How could you ever forgive such a lowly one as I!"

"Have you been practising your melodrama?" Jareth asked with a knowing look on his face. Harry nodded bashfully. "Well done, then. Soon you won't even know you're doing it!" he cried out, gracing the room with a flamboyant bow. Snape simply stared at him in horror. '_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

"Well," Jareth commented, suddenly sounding very business-like. He was now prowling around the dungeon, picking up random glass jars that contained things like Jabberwocky feathers and caterpillar feet as well as the potions he was supposed to mark, and suddenly spun around. "You may have a point, dear apprentice. I would quite like a new spy at Hogwarts amongst the teachers. It would be helpful for some aspects." He finished, smirking.

"And what do I receive in return?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. "After all, you surely don't expect me to willingly enter into an arrangement that has no beneficial effects for me, do you?"

"Of course not!" Jareth sounded highly affronted. "You shall receive several ingredients which I noticed that you do not have such as willingly given goblin blood. I believe you would then be the only Potions Master in England, and most likely Europe with such supplies. In fact, it could quite possible that you would be the sole owner in the modern world." Snape was nearly salivating; imagine the potions that could be made! Why, some recipes had nearly disappeared out of existence because of the lack of vital ingredients such as goblin blood, and the fact that it was willingly given only made it more powerful.

"So what's the catch?" Severus asked somewhat disbelievingly. Come on, goblin blood! He would be a rich man one day, and he could perhaps leave Hogwarts one day to live in the Bahamas. Or maybe Russia. Or New Zealand. Hell, he could probably go anywhere!

"All you have to do is give me a report on what you've discovered that could be construed as relevant information. For example, blackmail material must immediately be reported. Anything to do with that dog in the third floor corridor; anything to do with that pitiful excuse for a Dark Lord and also how my apprentice does in lessons." Jareth reeled off. "You can tell Harry who will pass on the messages or a goblin. Just ask for Spikig: I think he'll be your personal goblin from now on. He's stopped his biting habit as well, I believe, so he shouldn't be too bad."

"A biting goblin?" Snape asked incredulously. He was really starting to question his sanity now.

"By the by," Jareth mentioned casually. "You won't be able to talk of what's happened here. I have a spell that allows me to control who can speak of me, and I think you've already encountered it." He finished mysteriously. "Now, Harry, I think I shall leave, and I will see you at Christmas unless there are any other surprise visits in store?"

"But then they wouldn't be a surprise." Harry said innocently. "Oh, yeah, before I forget, I think the Headmaster might suspect something. He was giving me funny looks at dinner when I was laughing."

"That might be because you were placed in Hufflepuff." Snape added. "I think he was rather hoping for a Gryffindor Sorting. Also, I am not entirely sure whether he's bothered to check on your current living situation, but I believe he will ask you to see him about it."

"Ask for me if he does hear about it." Jareth said. "I might have some things to say about your previous accommodations." He then ruffled Harry's hair and disappeared.

There was a silence as Snape tried to think about everything that had just happened.

"So you are the adopted son of the Goblin King?"

"Yep." Harry smirked. "I believe you just discovered the secret."

"And Albus does not know this? Oh this will be fun!" Snape said gleefully as he rubbed his hands together. "For once I shall know something that he does not!" The evil laughter here was a requisite, naturally.

"I'm so proud!" Harry gasped. "After only a few minutes of knowing both me and his majesty, you're becoming so melodramatic. Isn't this wonderful!"

Snape stilled. The boy was right. He was becoming Hufflepuff-ish. "Leave!"

"But sir?" Harry pouted. "I thought we were getting to be friends. After all, I'm now the only one you can talk about him with. And help you come up with a decent story for the goblin blood."

Snape thought he was about to self-destruct. "I think I can do a satisfactory job of that by myself, thank-you very much." He said with his teeth gritted. "Now, OUT!"

"Just going, just going." Harry said, holding in hands up in mock surrender. "And also, Professor Snape?" he added as he left the room. "Jareth is older than you." Snape growled.

_AN-to make up for the trauma of having to suffer through an exam, I'd like several reviews on Tuesday if you please. I'm sure everyone knows what they're like, so I'd really like some nice cheery ones to cheer me up. Muchos apreciados, amici! Auf wierdeshen! _

_P.S Anyone catch the Alice In Wonderland reference?_


	7. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer – I actually own everything here. Obviously. Because secretly I am JK Rowling and I write Fanfiction about Harry Potter. And I also somehow manage to be the creators of Labyrinth and I also just happen to write Fanfiction about that as well. And with the third of my multiple personalities, I am secretly Stephenie Meyer as well, so I write Fanfiction about the vampires that I so totally own. _

_Ok, 'fess up. Did anyone actually believe that? So, I'll just quickly write (for the benefit of the lawyers), that I own nothing here._

_And, I know it's been a bit of a long time since I updated, going by my previous updates, but I have reasons. First of all, there was my other fic 'How To Bring Down A Dark Lord,' (and that's obviously no advertising for you guys to go read it. Honestly. __(You can reach it through my profile)__) that wanted attention and I had school as well. But I hope you enjoy this next chapter!_

Chapter 6

Christmas had come around quickly, without anything extremely unusual happening. Of course, this was a magical school, so it could be argued that everything was extremely unusual anyway without the creepy Defence teacher thrown in for kicks as well. Snape, also, appeared to have heard nothing about Quirrel and had stopped his stalking as well, which Harry was eternally grateful for. Even his friends had started noticing, and he had received a lot of glares from the other Hufflepuffs who had noticed the rapid decrease in points after Harry's every Potions lesson with Snape. Now the stalking had stopped, as had the unnecessary point-taking, meaning that Harry was treated with a little bit more warmth from the other Hufflepuffs.

"Harry!" Hermione called, her tone of voice indicating that she had been doing that for a while. "Harry! Answer me!"

Unfortunately for Harry, his answer of 'hmm?' came much too late for Hermione's satisfaction as she cast _Aguamenti_ on him. He _really_ didn't like that vindictive smirk she had as she watched him sit up and splutter furiously.

"Good," she said happily with a beaming smile on her face that had replaced the smirk. "Now perhaps you'll learn to listen to me."

He hadn't really had a chance, he thought in hindsight. Nobody ever got between Hermione and knowledge.

"Harry. Harry, Harry, Harry," Hermione sighed. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Um, Hermione? There's only two people in this room. Me...and you. Who's we?" Harry pointed out wearily. This was starting to look like an interrogation. The fact that he was tied to a chair - after Hermione had dragged him out from the Hufflepuff common room – with the windows' light dimmed had also helped him come to this conclusion. _Really, the reader thinks sarcastically. How could he ever have thought that? _

"Now, I don't know what you want, Hermione, but it would be good to let me go now," Harry said gently. Perhaps if he tried to humour her, she might let him go. And then he could run. Run far away from the crazy Ravenclaw.

"I'm afraid you can't do that, Harry," Hermione replied in the same gentle tone. "After all, you have the answers to something that has been bothering me for a long while now."

What on earth did she think that he knew that she didn't? Perhaps it was the Snape thing. Or the latest pranks that he'd been playing. Or was it-

"Sorry, what?" he exclaimed. Hermione had asked him but he wasn't entirely sure he'd heard it right.

"I asked you, 'how on earth does Jareth get his trousers so tight?'" she said quite impatiently. Oh Merlin. His heart sank. It looked like Hermione was becoming a fan girl. And of all the people that he thought would have, she was at the bottom of the list. After all, it was _Hermione_! The sensible one who made sure everyone was doing their homework. The one who didn't like to break rules. The one person who was reasonable, rational, and, well, sane in this crazy and twisted world he inhabited and had come to love.

"And I'd also like to know," she continued, "how on earth your father manages to move between the Labyrinth and here. After all, there must be some considerable physics involved. If, as Jareth says, the Labyrinth is Belowground and this is Aboveground, then..."

Oh, thank Merlin, Harry thought in relief. Hermione was back.

*POP*

Jareth was naturally somewhat surprised when the noise was followed by the arrival of a young man, roughly in his twenties maybe, appearing in his throne room, and who was currently sprawled on the floor. In fact, one could also go so far as to say that Jareth was more than somewhat surprised; he was completely shocked, and nearly jumped out of his seat. Fortunately, the goblins were all so busy staring at the man on the floor that they had failed to notice their King's momentary loss of control.

"Ah!" the blond creature that had just appeared in front of him said eloquently. "Where the hell am I?"

"You are in the Underground. The Labyrinth, to be exact," Jareth replied with a note of boredom in his voice after a quick recovery. Really, it got so _tedious_ explaining to these mortals where they were – except this one wasn't quite...mortal , it seemed. Interesting – due to the emotions that generally had rather an annoying effect on the process. First of all, there was the shock. Then came the denial when they realised exactly where they were which was normally followed by anger, especially when they could watch the Runner fail. Normally, that was followed by despair, which his goblins positively revelled in. And then they were changed. Which was pretty much fun for everyone but them.

"And now it appears I must go to the person who wished you away and inform them of their choices," Jareth mentioned, annoyed. He had _such _a good afternoon planned as well - watching Sarah, tormenting goblins, and more watching of Sarah. "Try not to cause any damage whilst I'm gone, there's a good chap. Otherwise, there will be consequences, vampire."

The blond looked pointedly round at the chaos happening around them, as the goblins realised that nothing out of the ordinary was happening and returned to their usual activities; drinking, chicken-chasing, drinking, jumping out the window for those who were particularly drunk and wished to copy their King, and more drinking.

"Try not to personally create any damage that hasn't already been done by the goblins." Jareth amended hastily, before disappearing from the throne room in a cloud of glitter.

Unsure of what to do, the vampire simply stared around the room, his thoughts swirling around in his head. The creature in front of him had recognised his nature, but was not afraid. That was...interesting, to say the least. It meant that the man on the throne considered himself to be more powerful. But was he more powerful than a vampire? And secondly, he had to go to the person who'd wished him away? What the hell did that mean?

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he had failed to notice the ever increasingly closer presence of the goblins, who had decided to explore this new object that was so still and so sparkly. Surely he must be some relation to the King, some of them thought with what little sense they had, with all the sparkly-ness. The others thought he simply looked edible, but alas, they were to discover that they were the edible ones, as almost automatically, the vampire's hand shot out and seized the closest goblin by its arm, and lunged for its neck. The others all shrieked, jumping back in panic as they watched the newest acquisition to the court of the Underground drink messily from one of their brethren. Some of the acquaintances of said goblin – with all the petty fights that routinely broke out in the court, goblins didn't truly make friends; relationships were mostly alliances – ran at the vampire, who snarled, and dropped the body. Almost instantly, he was picking them up and tossing them aside easily to impact heavily on the walls. The more sensible goblins shifted back, attempting to move out from under the red-eyed gaze that was scanning the room, watching for the goblins that were attacking. This chaos lasted until there was a small noise and the Goblin King re-appeared.

Jareth took in the scene with one glance. The vampire was standing by a nearly drained corpse of one of the newer goblins, he noticed, whilst a few other goblins were facing him, obviously deciding how best to attack him. Judging by the few bodies that had been splattered against the walls, their last attempts had not been successful. The larger crowd of goblins merely huddled in the corner by his throne, keening softly, in hope that they would not be next on the vampire's menu. He sighed, rubbing his temples in lieu of the headache that was sure to be approaching soon. Conjuring a crystal ball, he threw it at the vampire standing warily against the wall. The blond noticed, and attempted to grab the ball, but it went _right through his hand _and still somehow managed to solidly impact on his body so that he was unable to move.

He would have gasped in amazement and slight fear. But he couldn't breathe, which was due to the effects of the crystal so that countered the gasp, and if his heart still worked, then his heartbeat would have increased as he watched the Goblin King approach.

Jareth's face was menacing as he stood in front of the vampire. "I thought I had made it quite clear that you were not to create a mess, vampire. In fact, you even answered me, which I assumed to mean that you had heard and understood. Do you know how long bloodstains take to come out of this floor? And do you realise the extent of the punishment that I am going to have to give you in order to keep my subjects happy?" Jareth's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm afraid the chance to have a vampire in service would really be the best, I think. Besides, none of the other rulers have a vampire servant, so you'll have done one good thing, I suppose. So, I believe that a...millennium of servitude would be best for all concerned."The crystal shimmered blue for an instant before becoming transparent once more, and then faded away. The vampire flinched instinctively as he felt his bonds disappear and Jareth turned, sauntering away. The implication of the saunter was designed to taint the vampire, who leapt at Jareth's unprotected back. The Fae did not display any reaction as he heard the vampire fall behind him, until he reached his throne, and sprawled lazily in it.

The goblins still alive chattered in malignant glee as they watched the vampire choke. This spell of servitude would cause the servant intolerable pain if they ever attacked the one who had placed it on them, and Jareth had known that the pride of vampires – the so-called top predators – would never allow them to take being a servant without some kind of retribution. Jareth watched dispassionately as the blond writhed on the floor in pain, until it lifted suddenly.

"Next time," Jareth said impassively, "the spell will cause increased amounts of pain. If that does not stop you from committing these ill-advised attempts to hurt, the pain will only increase, but not actually kill you. For all intents and purposes, now, you are a slave to the Goblin King."

The vampire's eyes widened at the last two words. Obviously, Jareth smirked inwardly with glee; his legend hadn't quite disappeared yet if the myths about him were still circulating amongst the vampires, and he watched the vampire's eyes darting about, before resting on the carcasses of the goblins, understanding the unasked question as the vampire returned his gaze to the Goblin King.

"Food-wise, you can have as many of the little buggers as you want," Jareth said disinterestedly. "They'll just keep re-populating anyway. But if you dare touch either me, my intended or my son, I will kill you. Understand?" he finished in the same tone, despite the threat that had been added in.

The blond vampire standing in front of him gulped a little, but replied defiantly. "You don't taste good anyway. There's a bit too much of the _dog_ scent in you."

Jareth simply stared at him, not bothering to counter the insult, making the vampire grow restless, and although he would never admit it, slightly nervous. He could sense the power in the man – but was he a man if he was a Goblin King? He certainly looked like one, but his bearing spoke of centuries of living, and he was certainly no vampire since his scent put paid to any thought of that idea – and the power made him nervous. The power was seductive but the dangerous edge to it was more than apparent. No, he thought; pissing off this Goblin King would definitely not be in his best interests.

And then Jareth smiled. It was a cold smile; no smile could be seen in the eyes, but if one knew what other expressions to look for, a slight hint of admiration could be seen, for the way that the boy, well vampire, in front of him had chosen to defy him. It was nice to have subjects with a bit of bravery, Jareth thought. "What's your name, anyway, vampire?

"Riley, sir," the blond replied.

"Sarah!" Harry cheered, running forwards and hugging her. "I didn't know you were coming to pick me up."

Sarah smiled. "I'm not, really. Jareth just wanted me to wait for you since he said he might be a little late. One of the latest...acquisitions is acting up," she said delicately. "But, hey, it's good to see you, kiddo! So, learnt anything interesting?" Harry's reply was interrupted by...

"Harry!" Draco shouted, hurrying towards him. "I wanted to say goodbye, and Happy Christmas!" His parents followed slowly behind him; Narcissa looked rather amused by her son's behaviour, and a little pleased, Harry noticed. Lucius, however, looked to be a little more angry, until he realised who they were heading for. His expression changed to look as if it was confused between anger and a smile. A most amusing combination, Sarah noticed. What _had_ Harry done to deserve it, she wondered, glancing down at her charge with a wry smile.

"Ah, Harry Potter," Lucius greeted, with a mix of a smile and a sneer on his face. "It is, of course, a...pleasure to meet you." The pause between 'a' and 'pleasure' had been accompanied by a dig in the ribs from Narcissa, who had evidently felt that said pause was taking too long.

"Likewise, Lord Malfoy. Likewise." Harry said politely with a raised eyebrow (two could play at that game), before turning to Narcissa. "Draco! You never told me you had an older sister! It is wonderful to meet you, Miss Malfoy," taking Narcissa's hand and kissing the back of it. The obvious attempt at flattery was lost on no-one there, except, perhaps, Draco; Lucius glared, Sarah smirked, Draco was confused, and Narcissa laughed. "Really, Mr Potter. Such compliments from one so young; you will be a heart-breaker, I think, when you are older," she said smiling. "You have raised him well, Miss...?" turning to Sarah, with a questioning look in her eye.

"Miss Williams. Sarah Williams." Sarah smiled back.

Lucius, however, was frowning. "Williams... That's not a name I recognise."

"I doubt you would, Lord Malfoy. I'm American, you see, and I help take care of Harry, when he's at home."

"Oh, really? And where would home be for you?" Lucius asked, with an attempt at a smile. Harry stared at him. Did he not know how transparent his attempts to know about Harry's living arrangements were?

Sarah looked awkward. "Well, it doesn't exactly have a very...accessible address," and let out a sigh of relief as she saw Jareth materialise behind the Malfoys. The interrogation was over, she thought happily.

Draco, on the other hand, was not so happy when he saw him. He yelped, backing up several steps. "He's not going to do anything, Draco," Harry said, rolling his eyes. Really, you'd think Jareth had turned him into something and sent him to the Bog. Oh. Well, perhaps Draco did have something to be afraid of, then.

"Truly, one would think that I had children for breakfast or something positively awful like that with his reaction," Jareth drawled, as he noticed Draco's reaction. "And you are?" he asked, turning to the Malfoys with a raised eyebrow.

"Lord Lucius Malfoy, of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, and this is my wife, Narcissa," Lucius sniffed haughtily. Who did this upstart think he was to address _them_ in such a way? "May I ask your name?"

"You may."

There was a silence. And some more silence, before Lucius asked, with gritted teeth. "What is your name?" _Oh, if only he could be rid of this annoying family of Potter's!_

"My name is Jareth." A pause, then, "King of the Labyrinth." Jareth cocked his head, realising that Sarah was watching him in amused fascination. She hadn't quite seen this side of him before, he thought. Well, not from this angle anyway. "King of the Underground and King of the Goblins." Well, alright, perhaps he wasn't _technically_ the King of the Underground, since there were other kingdoms, but it definitely made a difference when introducing himself. Such as now. Jareth grinned wolfishly, watching as Lucius' face blanched; he had _definitely_ heard of Jareth then.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, your Majesty, and unfortunately, I've just remembered that some urgent business has come up, so if you'll excuse me. Narcissa, Draco, come." Lucius ordered, moving as fast as was possible as to remain dignified to escape the Goblin King. Narcissa simply looked amused; she apparently knew the reason for Lucius' fear and found his excuses comical whereas Draco was still looking confused – he had no idea why his father was backing away so quickly – and delighted – he was escaping the Being! "'Bye, Harry!" he yelled as Lucius dragged him away, and received a goodbye wave before Jareth, Sarah and Harry disappeared from the platform.

The cleaner employed to clean the platform would later grumble about the various amounts of glitter that had been left sprinkled over platform. Even worse, most of it refused to be vanished.

_Author's Note-Ok, I don't know if it was just me, but did anyone else wonder what happened to Riley in the Eclipse movie? I know in the book that it said he was killed along with Victoria through fire, but in the movie, Seth drags him over the rock and we never see him again... So, like any perfectly sane Fanfiction author would do (if they happened to like Twilight and thought that Riley was, well, really good-looking), I decided to do the reasonable thing and take advantage of that, and so had Seth wish him away. No, I don't know why Seth would decide to do that in the first place, but let's call that a plot-hole, shall we? Also, for those who don't like Twilight, rest assured, it's not going to play that big a role. Mainly Riley._

_And, before I forget: Read and review, dear readers. Read and review. Please?_


	8. Chapter 7

_So, um...*looks around awkwardly and whistles casually.* Sorry? Actually though, I have a sort of good reason - apart from my lack of inspiration - my computer did do this weird thing, where it tried to download some stuff. Whilst it was switched off. So the next time I switched it on, I received a lovely surprise of my laptop rebelling and refusing to load properly. Thankfully, I got that all sorted out, but then when I switched it on the first time after getting it back from the computer guy, I got an even better surprise! Most of my documents had deleted themselves. This unhappily included what I had already written for this chapter. Plus the notes I'd written. Anyways, onto slightly happier news, a bit of inspiration came from reading the reviews I've received for this story. Absolutely fantastic things, they are – all nice and encouraging and making me feel guilty for not writing. And this is the product! _

_**Griffin**__**Raven**__ – I hope I've answered some of your questions. Does make you wonder about the amount of trouble the Marauders and Jareth could get up into!_

_**mishap**__ – Thank you indeed for the ideas. Maybe Lucius might wake up to find goblins sleeping next to him now, petting his long, shiny hair... ;)_

_**GeorgeTobor**__ – Hopefully Lucius will realise that it's probably best to align himself with the stronger side. Or at least the more awesome one. Also, thanks for the reassurance. And I'd love to see that story if you ever decided to do it!_

_**Senyor**__**Fier**__**Mensheir**__; __**Gelasia-kitty**__; __**FluffyNevyn**__; __**Martionmanswife**__; __**Hanzo**__**of the Salamander**__; __**loretta537**__; __**GinaStar**__; __**keitaya**__; __**TygerC**__; __**son of a**__**peach**__; __**Andrew**__**MacKenzie**__; __**CeilingFan**__; __**AddictedtoTwilightForever**__; __**SweetAngels123**__; __**Captain-Emily**__; __**Primal Chaos**__; __**Adele365**__; __**Night's Mirth**__; __**ravenknight118**__; __**FoxInBox**__**aka**__**FIB**__; __**My**__**Best**__**Friend**__**Is**__**You**__; __**reader1writer1**__; __**Joie**__**Darya**__**Wasprinct**__; __**lunarprincess87**__; __**Luiz4200**__; __; __**evil-step-sister**__; __**fairygirl8301**__; __**GeeAnnaB**__; __**Jonn**__**Wolfe**__; __**aalens**__; __**Hotgirlow**__; __**Syron13**__; __**My**__**Solitude**__; __**jgood27**__; __**willow's**__**pen**__; __**SanyoshoSajira**__; __**Chrystel**__**Malfoy-Potter**__; __**Rylia**__; __**Shadow**__**Wolf**__**15846**__; __**ya-ya-chan**__; __**Janelly**__**Slytherin**__; __**faneka**__; __**yungatheart**__; __**Draeconin**__; __**henxu**__; __**Hana Kogane**__; __**Chakahlah**__ – All I can say is thank you so much for reviewing, and just generally being patient and hopeful._

_Disclaimer- Don't own Harry Potter or Labyrinth. Tragic._

**Chapter 7**

Harry and Draco, already sat at the table for dinner, watched in glee, as the seventh years took their places at the table, as did the other members of the Hufflepuff house. The seventh years had split up into two groups in order to carry out the prank, and fortunately this was normal behaviour for the older Hufflepuffs, so no extra attention was paid to them. If they were going to prank the Slytherins, it had to be done right. It had to look as if the Gryffindors were responsible. The legendary rivalry between the Gryffindors and Slytherins had few pluses, but one of these was the ability for the other two houses to prank without being immediately thought responsible. Sure, the people responsible for the pranks had sometimes been caught, but everybody seemed to think they were one-offs. After all, the Badgers were famous for being nice and kind to everybody, and the Ravenclaws; well, what did they do but study?

Therefore, it was necessary to plant a diversion, so nobody would see the Hufflepuff responsible for casting the spell actually doing so, and a few of the house turning around to look for the scapegoats in Gryffindor. Really, it was rather lucky for them that the Weasley twins were infamous for carrying out pranks.

When a certain Hufflepuff seventh year by the name of Eric Lindney stood, a short but anticipatory silence fell over the table, before talk quickly renewed. Nobody else in the hall noticed the way that some eyes were following the boy, but he gathered a lot more attention when he tripped over the strap of one of the Slytherin's bags that had been left out in the space between the two tables. The resulting clatter managed to catch the surrounding Slytherins' attention as well as the Hufflepuffs' as Lindney frantically reached out for something to stop his fall but caught only the robes of one third-year girl. She shrieked as she fell backwards, and managed to upset the table where she was sitting, sending a few pieces of cutlery and goblets onto the floor, receiving much more attention from her table.

"Bugger," Lindney painfully groaned as he lay on the ground with several pieces of tableware scattered around his head.

"Language, Mr Lindney!" rang out Professor McGonagall's voice from the head table, distracting Professor Sprout from the discussion she had been having with Professor Trelawney. A rather evil twinkle appeared in her eye and she straightened up a little, her attention falling upon her house. She knew when something was going to happen. Glancing back at her previous conversation partner, she mentally shrugged, and concentrated on the Hufflepuff table. It wasn't like Sybill would notice she had left the conversation; she was still jabbering on about the great dangers of when Mars and Jupiter met.

As attention focused on the ruckus at one end of the Hufflepuff table, a seventh year by the name of Eliza Milton at the other end took out her wand, and quietly cast the spell, which had been slightly modified so as to only affect one gender. It was a time-delayed jinx, so that nobody would suspect that the accident, which had befallen Eric Lindney, was in fact a diversion.

So when precisely five minutes and forty-three seconds had passed, it activated. The boys at the Slytherin table began to notice that their clothes were gradually changing. Trousers raised their length, and puffed out, while the shirts they were wearing all became black. Lace slowly appeared underneath the now skirts, while a small apron appeared around the waist. Chatter at the table had completely stopped as the boys took in what was happening to them, which resulted in attention from the other tables in the hall. One boy even stood up in horror, which allowed everyone else who had been eating to see what exactly had happened. Marcus Flint looked down at himself and promptly started to rain curses down upon the Weasley twins (surely the only ones who could have masterminded a plot like this), gathering the attention of those who had not realised what the silence in the hall meant. Marcus Flint, one of the most masculine examples of his gender, was currently wearing a French maid costume.

There was a shocked silence for a couple of minutes before one snigger was heard from the Gryffindor table, which set the whole table off. Peals of laughter at the sight of the Slytherins was soon joined by the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, as the entirety of the green and silver table sat there in embarrassment, although even a few of the first years there appeared to be trying to hold back their laughter. There were even a few wolf whistles from some of the other tables. Many of the boys in their new attire stormed out of the hall, only increasing the amount of laughter directed at them, while others casually shrugged and carried on eating as if nothing had happened. The laughter soon died down, although snickers broke out every so often. The Hufflepuffs silently congratulated themselves on a job well done before returning to their meal.

"Mr Potter?" Hearing the cool tones of Professor McGonagall, Harry turned around in his seat at the table, nearly knocking over Draco's pumpkin juice as he did, and also missing the dirty look he received from Draco as the blond quickly caught the glass before it fell.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, eyes widening in innocence as he looked up at her.

"Now, Mr Potter, don't try that on me. I got that look many a time from your father, usually after he'd done something I wouldn't have approved of," she said sternly. In spite of her tone, her eyes still softened a little. "The Headmaster would like to see you when you have finished your supper. You may find Ice Mice rather useful." And with that, she turned upon her heel and strode back to the professors' table.

"Wonder what he wants to talk to you about," Draco said absently, forgetting that Harry had nearly spilt his drink, and helped himself to a couple more potatoes.

"Dunno," Harry shrugged, but then suddenly grinned. "Maybe it's to do with where I live. It's taken him long enough to realise that I'm not living with the Dursleys anymore."

"Who are they?" Draco spared him a curious glance between the bites he was taking of his Yorkshire pudding.

"My mother's sister and her family. I lived with them for a while, before I went to live with Jareth." Harry answered casually.

"Dursley, Dursley," Draco mused. "I don't think I've heard that name. Are they foreign?"

Harry nearly burst out laughing. Vernon would have had a fit if anyone had called him a foreigner. From what Harry remembered, quite a few of his rants had included foreigners. And they weren't complimentary either. "No, Draco. They're Muggles."

"Muggles?" the other boy asked in horror. "Who on earth would send the Boy-Who-Lived to live with _Muggles_?"

"I think I'm about to speak with the person who did," Harry replied somewhat seriously before grinning wickedly. "And I think he'll expect to be seeing someone." Draco flinched even at the implication of who exactly would be coming to visit the castle that night.

* * *

Harry was having a staring-match with the gargoyle, and he was pretty sure he was winning. He was sure the gargoyle had blinked at one point, but the creature had refused to admit it. Harry had to acknowledge though, that the gargoyle had an amazing poker face. He'd been standing there for at least ten minutes, and the statue hadn't barely moved.

"Mr Potter!" a somewhat exasperated voice shouted. Harry blinked in answer, and then cursed as he realised he'd lost. He turned to face Dumbledore, who was looking rather annoyed, and he could have sworn that the statue had smirked as he turned, but when he spun back around, there was only the same blank expression on the gargoyle's face.

"Mr Potter," Dumbledore repeated. "May I ask why you have been standing outside of my office for the past ten minutes, and not attempted to enter?"

"I was having a staring competition with Bobby here," Harry replied with an innocent smile. 'Bobby' glared. "But I lost when you said my name," he finished with a pout.

"Well, in future, could you please not have any staring competitions with the gargoyle here? It rather disrupts my being able to leave my office. Now, shall we adjourn to my office to talk about your living arrangements?" Dumbledore swept past Harry and climbed the stairs that were appearing as the gargoyle guardian swung to one side, with Harry following behind.

"This isn't finished!" Harry yelled back at the gargoyle as he followed Dumbledore up the stairs. The gargoyle only smirked again, before returning to its normal poker face. The conversations people had when they thought nobody was listening were really rather interesting.

"Well, Harry, I'm sure you know why we're here," the Headmaster said, with a twinkle in his eye, and a small smile on his face; people always seemed a bit more trusting when confronted with The Twinkle, he found. In reality, people simply wanted to get away from The Twinkle that seemed to grow and swallow up the room when they spoke to the Headmaster.

"You did mention it downstairs, sir," Harry pointed out helpfully. "Also sir, if you have to ask me, I think it may be a good idea to ask Madam Pomfrey about your memory loss. I'm sure she has some excellent potions that can help you."

Dumbledore could only stare. Never before had he been insulted like that, but the worst of it was that the boy had said it all without any sign of malice or mocking. Though he supposed it was rather Hufflepuff-like behaviour to be so caring, even towards people one didn't know very well, so he forgave the boy this time.

"Well, as you seem to already know..." he trailed off, hoping young Harry would get the hint. Young Harry didn't, and simply stared back blankly.

Dumbledore gave up in frustration. "Harry, if you could, I'd quite like you to call your father here so that we may discuss your living arrangements."

"Why?" Harry asked. "I mean, I'm pretty sure you don't normally take the time to ask every single student where they're living."

"If you don't mind, I'd prefer to discuss that with your father," the Headmaster said hurriedly. After all, the boy was right. Besides, it wasn't every day one of his students went to live with a Fae, and without him noticing anything.

"Headmaster, are you sure about this? I mean, at your age and all, sudden shocks can be rather upsetting," Harry said, "and Jareth can be a bit...shocking at times."

He had to correct himself; insulted twice in less than five minutes? This was proving to be somewhat of a record. He smiled at the boy kindly. "Yes Harry, quite sure. I would like to talk with your father, and I'm sure I will be able to withstand the shock."

A small pause followed. "Sure you're sure, Headmaster?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, very sure."

"Ok," Harry sighed. There was another small pause before..."But are you really, really sure that you want to meet him? I mean, like, totally sure of what you're about to do?" he finished with a weak smile.

The Headmaster smiled kindly at him, although it was beginning to grow a little forced. "I am very sure, Harry. Now, please, if you could ask your father to join us?"

Harry sighed. "Jareth!" he called. And the King himself appeared almost instantaneously with a small pop and glitter floating down around him. The Goblin King cut indeed a glorious sight, and the Headmaster had to admit the man's fashion was almost impeccable, what with the colours of the jacket and breeches, although they could have done with a bit more neon, and was it really so necessary for the breeches to be quite _that_ tight?

"Headmaster," Jareth nodded regally in greeting. "Such a...pleasure to finally meet you." The disdainful pause before the pleasantry was lost on no-one.

"Your Majesty," the headmaster replied with a slightly forced smile. "Please, if you'd like to take a seat, then we can discuss young Harry's living arrangements."

Jareth only smirked before moving forwards to take said seat, before stopping suddenly in his tracks and stared in horror at the seat in front of him. "Well, that simply won't do," he said scornfully, looking down at the chair in front of him. The massively puffy pink monstrosity of an armchair almost appeared to droop in shame before slowly starting to glow as Jareth stared fixedly at it. Dumbledore gasped in dismay as the chair slowly grew in height, reduced in width and started to glitter. The Goblin King stood back as the chair finished its transformation, before circling his creation slowly and nodding in approval. He then sat down and slung a leg over the arm of his newly created throne, leaving Dumbledore with a view of ... well, he didn't quite know where to look.

"So, living arrangements?" Jareth asked, with a rather smug grin on his face. "What exactly were your main concerns?"

Dumbledore stuttered for a few moments before saying, "I was wondering what the security was like?"

"Well," Jareth stretched, "it's certainly better than the last place you had him at. Your security was wards based on love, wasn't it? I'm sure they would have worked, if there was any love in the household. The whole family were a bunch of selfish pigs, but I rather think that's an insult to pigs. Whereas I have an entire goblin army, I myself can enchant, and I don't think it's possible for any of your kind to enter the Underground without being wished away or having an invitation. So, any questions?" he finished, with a smile on his face that managed to convey power, anger and a pinch of darkness all-in-one.

"Will he grow up within a loving family?" Dumbledore asked quickly.

"Certainly," the Goblin King replied, yawning so as to express his boredom with the questioning. "He sees my current companion as a mother figure, and he has plenty of friends in the Labyrinth. Anything else?" The silence from the Headmaster indicated a 'no.'

"So glad we could have this talk," Jareth smirked. "It was such a lot of fun, don't you agree? However, Headmaster," Jareth continued pleasantly. "I'd like to give you a small warning. If Harry is ever hurt while in residence at your school, I will hurt you. I will mess your shit up. I will make it so you don't remember why you flinch in fear at the word 'bunnies' or 'raspberries.' Is that understood?"

An aura of darkness had started to surround the man, and the walls had disappeared, only to be replaced with a mist of blackness swirling around. His voice had not changed its tone at all, something which, Dumbledore was quite surprised to note, rather scared him, and he could only nod rather helplessly. The Goblin King nodded in approval before standing up and brushing some errant glitter off his breeches, before bidding goodbye to Harry and the Headmaster, who was still sitting there in a slight state of shock, watching as the black mist slowly vanished.

Dumbledore sighed in thanks as the Goblin King disappeared and Harry skipped through the door, mockingly waving at the Headmaster as he did so. He could finally remove that eyesore of a chair. Only it didn't work. Casting '_Finite Incantateum_' did nothing. Nor did attempting to transfigure it or casting '_Reducto'_ at the chair. The throne only glowed a little, and Dumbledore couldn't escape the feeling that it was laughing at him. Even if it was only an inanimate piece of furniture. After several more spells that would have blown the throne into tiny little pieces, had they worked, he finally threw his hand into the air with frustration and strode out of the office into his private rooms. Therefore he didn't see the number of eyes that emerged from the shadow of the chair nor hear the chittering of the goblins as they left through the door that Harry had rather helpfully left open for them.

* * *

_I rather like the idea of goblins unleashing hell on the school, don't you? Imagine the chaos; them teasing McGonagall while she was in her cat form, playing Tag with Fluffy, having fun with Peeves... So I hope you liked it! And, as always, leave a review if you'd like to! _ _Also, there may be more pranks played, so if you have any ideas, please tell me – if you'd like to – because my imagination is pretty bad._


	9. Chapter 8

_The last chapter ended up being rather big, so I thought I'd split it into two. But what a surprise, hey? No update for over a year, and then suddenly two in fairly quick succession. Just a warning though; that doesn't bode particularly well for the next one. But I'm kind of losing inspiration – I don't really want to churn out the books all over again, even if there are different characters at the forefront of the plot. Any ideas for that? So, yeah, just a warning. _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter!_

Since Harry's chat with the Headmaster, a couple of months had passed. Nothing especially extraordinary had happened; well, nothing out of the ordinary for a school of magic. Exams were coming up, resulting in every year buckling down to study a little more, and what's more, if you were friends with Hermione, you had the chance to study a _lot _more. Such fun, eh?

It was also something of a shock when Harry suddenly awoke from his deep sleep to find a small goblin standing by his bed when he hadn't heard from said goblin in a couple of months.

"Blargle!" Harry yelped as he jerked upright, torn from his sleep, and automatically reached for his wand. "What in the Underground are you doing here?"

The goblin barely noticed the wand inches away from his eye, but started to talk quickly; "Turban-man has gone past the door and sent big doggie to sleepy-byes, and then disappeared into the floor!"

Blargle even widened his eyes for extra dramatic effect, which was unfortunately not very appreciated by his audience.

Harry groaned. Professor Quirrel just had to pick...he glanced at his clock...half 3 in the morning to attack, didn't he. 'What a horrible person. What kind of person could be quite so evil?,' Harry thought bad-temperedly as he climbed out of bed, and dressed. It was far too early to even contemplate getting up so early, but here he was doing so.

"Right, off to save the world then," Harry said sarcastically. "Cheers for the wake-up call, Blargle." The goblin squeaked, and promptly disappeared back into the shadows. Harry stared at the spot for a moment before setting off to the third floor, grumbling quietly the whole way.

Harry stared for a moment at the snoring mass of Fluffy, before shaking his head and jumping down into the darkness of the trapdoor, landing safely in the Devil's Snare. The key was easy enough to find as it fluttered brokenly about in the next room, and Harry could only stare in disbelief as he looked at the giant chessboard, before shrugging and returning to the key-room to grab a broom that would take him over the chessboard. He landed safely, and glanced back at the undamaged chess board; he did not like the looks of those swords and was really rather glad he'd been able to avoid them.

Stepping through into the next chamber, he recoiled at the smell – it was even worse than the goblins just before they had their monthly wash, and that included having most likely being dunked in the Bog several times! Harry congratulated himself on being able to keep moving despite the smell, but stopped short when he saw what exactly was causing the smell. A troll, much larger than the one he had seen on Halloween, was on the floor, seemingly unconscious. Yep, definitely asleep, Harry decided, as a large snore left the troll's mouth and reverberated around the room. Tip-toeing past the troll, he made his way into the next room, where flames sprung up in the doorway as soon as he had passed through.

Harry looked round, noting the flames in the doorway opposite, and the table with vials of potions placed upon it. A note fluttered in a breeze, and Harry picked it, lips moving as he silently read through the note. A grin slowly took over his face as he realised it was a puzzle. One couldn't grow up in a Labyrinth and not enjoy puzzles! It took only a few minutes for Harry to select the right potion that would allow him to go through the fire unscathed and he quickly downed it, before he stepped through the doorway. He flinched as he felt the cold flames burning around him but came out into a room that strongly resembled a crypt. Candles flickered around the room in the light breeze that Harry was unable to determine the source of. The only furnishings the room had were several tapestries that hung in various places around the room, and a large standing mirror, placed in the centre, along with a turbaned man in front of it, who appeared not to have noticed Harry. This, however, quickly changed as Harry accidentally scuffed his shoe whilst trying to sneak behind a pillar, causing Quirrel to spin around.

"Ah, Potter," Quirrel exclaimed in triumph. "I suppose you wouldn't have thought to find me here! P-p-poor st-stuttering Pr-pr-professor Quirrel."

Harry simply gave him a pitying look. "Quirrel, man, I've been having you followed for the past year. Of course I knew it was going to be you here!"

"Followed?" Quirrel asked confused, before shaking his head and attempting to continue with his obviously rehearsed speech.

"Look, Quirrel," Harry interrupted. "We both know what you're here for, so let's not pretend we don't know. It is far too early for me to be polite, so just hand over the Stone if you have it and I can go back to bed. This is awfully inconsiderate of you, you know, planning evil at such a time."

Quirrel glared. And then an almost unearthly voice echoed around the room. "Let me face him," it whisped, "let me face the impertinent brat."

"But Master," Quirrel whimpered, "you are not yet strong enough. You should save your strength."

"Let me face the boy!" the voice ordered, and Quirrel obeyed it, reaching his shaking hands up to his head and unwinding the turban before turning to face the mirror, thus presenting the back of his head to Harry. As the turban slowly slid off, it produced an almost distant ache in Harry's forehead, but he ignored it, watching as parchment-white skin was revealed, and then gleaming snake-like eyes that watched him intently.

And Harry gulped a little as he met the coal red eyes of the face that belonged to the man who had killed his birth parents, before recovering his bravado (although some would call that stupidity).

"Dude," Harry said sadly, shaking his head, "I'm sorry, but that is not a good look for you. Maybe a nose would help?"

Voldemort simply glared. "You are truly an insolent brat," he whispered with what strength he had. Putting the idea of Voldemort taking lessons from Snape for his, in all honesty, pretty creepy glares and tones that spoke of danger, even when whispering, out of mind, Harry concentrated on the man in front of him whilst his forehead throbbed evermore strongly.

"But no matter," Voldemort continued, smirking. "It is hard to be insolent when you are dead."

Harry paled a little, before flinching as the being in front of him lifted his wand as if to cast, but no spell was fired. Voldemort only laughed cruelly at Harry's reaction. "Such a scared little boy," he mocked. "Indeed, it only leads me to wonder how you were supposed to be able to defeat me. _Me_, the most powerful of all beings to ever walk in this world."

And then Harry found the courage to speak. "You aren't the most powerful," he said quietly, eyes meeting the being's in front of him.

"Really, boy," Voldemort chuckled darkly. "Dumbledore is but a weak old fool now; he is no match for the great Lord Voldemort!"

"I wasn't talking about him," Harry said, and there was an almost unearthly silence in the pause. "I was talking about the Goblin King." And he appeared, taking in the scene in a moment. The candles flickered, lightning cracked, and Harry was unable to see much for a moment as the candles went out completely before relighting again.

Quirrel was pressed up against the wall, with a furious Goblin King holding him there by the neck. Shadows in the room had lengthened, and even as Harry watched, rubbing his throbbing forehead, the Goblin King's clothes had darkened as his shirt and breeches hardened into armour. The look of fury on Jareth's face was not something Harry ever wanted to see again; the promise of death and destruction were in his eyes, but only after following a large amount of agony. Those who had crossed the Goblin King were usually begging for death within the hour.

"You dare hurt my heir?" he murmured menacingly. "You _dare_ hurt my son?"

Goblins chittered in the shadows as their King spoke of unimaginable agonies, and Quirrel whimpered and flinched with every vivid detail. Voldemort's commands for action against this being were being drowned out by that most powerful of instincts: self-preservation; Quirrel did not particularly want to be killed in those ways, thank you very much.

The back of Quirrel's head was pulsating as the wraith of Lord Voldemort tried to tear itself free, but his own bonds of possession were too strong for him to leave. The Goblin King continued whispering torments into Quirrel's ear, and the images that his words provoked evidently became too much for the Defence Professor, who rolled up his eyes and collapsed in a faint. Jareth stepped back in disgust upon seeing the pulsating face on the back of Quirrel's head, that attempted to shout threats at him, but due to the state of its host, was unable to do anything more than whisper.

It was easy for Jareth to realise that this was the result of a particularly strong spell of possession and that the poor bastard currently unconscious on the floor would not be able to get out of it in any live form. However, killing the man would only result in the release of the wraith possessing him and that probably wasn't the best idea. So, what to do… There was always the possibility of transferring the wraith into another body – it was certainly the quickest way of getting out of this place. He grinned nastily; there was a rather annoying goblin he'd wanted to get rid of lately.

"Nimpot!" he called. A rather sullen-looking goblin appeared a few minutes later. "What is Kingy wanting from Nimpot?" he asked sulkily.

"Oh, nothing much, old chap. Just try to hold still for a few minutes," Jareth said gleefully. Sarah didn't approve of him making goblins 'disappear,' but this one was for a good cause! How could she argue with that? Chuckling quietly to himself, Jareth started the ritual that would transfer the possessor of the teacher before him to the goblin. The power it required for such a ritual was more than a normal wizard had, but then, Jareth was no normal being.

"Hold still, there's a good chap," Jareth said pleasantly as the goblin started to wriggle in discomfort; Nimpot growled angrily at the King's order, but couldn't disobey it. A glowing link had started to form between the man and goblin, and Nimpot's end grew gradually brighter as the other end faded. Finally, the other end disappeared entirely and the bright light flickered once before appearing to melt into the goblin.

"Right then," Jareth said, raising himself up to his full height, and darkening the room. "Bog, Nimpot. Until I say you can come back."

The goblin grumbled in anger, but did as his King had ordered and disappeared. The Goblin King looked down at the man on the floor - Quirrel was barely alive. Shallow breaths could be heard, but they were growing ever fainter. He was slowly entering into a coma, where his body would try to repair what damage had been done to him by the possessing spirit. It would never be able to fully repair itself - the damage was far too great, and his magic would exhaust itself.

Jareth sighed, almost sadly. He didn't like killing people, however much the legends said he did, but it would be neccesary. He slowly raised a crystal and spun it slowly towards the body. It hit and a light slowly enveloped the body; when it had covered the whole man, it glowed green once and then faded away, leaving only a body.

He turned away from the body, and went to his son.

"Are you alright Harry?" Jareth asked, with a tone of concern in his voice. His armour was shifting back into the clothes he had previously been wearing; a poet's shirt and his customary leather breeches.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, leaning into his father for comfort. "Just a bit confused; he said something about me being supposed to defeat him?"

"Well, I really do think we should visit the Headmaster," Jareth said, almost offhandedly, but with a note of evil glee in his voice. "He might have an idea about that, and I'd rather like to have a word with him."

Harry grinned evilly. "I quite agree."

It took only a few moments for Jareth to lift Harry up, supporting him with one arm around his shoulders, and transport the two of them to the Headmaster's office with a shower of glitter.

"Ah, Harry! And the Goblin King…" Dumbledore trailed off. "So nice of you to pay me a visit. Is there anything that brings you here?"

"Good of you to ask, Headmaster as there is actually. It appears that my son was attacked by your Voldethingy this morning. It was masquerading as your Defence Professor, who may also have had a little accident in one of the rooms under your third floor," Jareth replied, his teeth bared in what Dumbledore could only describe as a rather threatening manner, but he was sure Jareth didn't mean for it to come across as such…Right?

"You know, Harry," Jareth casually remarked, "I could have sworn I mentioned something about what would happen if someone ever got into danger to a certain _someone_ in his _office_." He finished, glaring directly at the Headmaster on his second 'someone'. (Perhaps he did then, Dumbledore thought in the back of his mind).

The Headmaster had never flinched. Maybe a few times when he was facing Grindelwald, and maybe a couple of times when fighting Voldemort, but faced with an angry parent? Never. Although in fairness, most parents didn't quite have the stories behind them that this parent did. Or a goblin army. However, despite all of that, he wasn't exactly gratified to find himself flinching when he faced the glare that the Goblin King was currently sending him.

"I do believe you did, actually," Harry replied gleefully. "Something about bunnies and raspberries...?"

Professor McGonagall was getting rather worried about the Headmaster. He hadn't been seen for three days now, and not even on the Tuesday when his favourite dessert had been served for dinner, and he hadn't missed that in years. She decided she'd go up to his office after dinner though – he had a point when he said the lemon meringue was exquisite.

"Albus?" she called, entering his office. A gleeful cackle echoed around the room, and she drew her wand before seeing a couple of goblins dash past her feet to get out of the office and into the castle. The cackle faded with their disappearance down the stairs, and she sighed in exasperation. Really, that Harry Potter was getting to be as bad as his father with the amount of disturbances he had been responsible for, which included the addition of goblins into the castle.

It was only then that she heard the whimpering, and paling, she hurried around the desk only to find Albus in a ball, sucking his thumb and surrounded by a sea of raspberries.

"Albus, what on earth's the matter?" she asked, confused. "And why are there raspberries all over the place?" Her only answer was a violent flinch, and she sighed, before levitating the Headmaster up off the floor and into his private rooms, where for some odd reason, there were a few rabbits reclining on the bed.

* * *

"Harry!" Sarah yelled. "There are owls here for you!" A small pop sounded behind her, and she jumped in surprise, before spinning around to find Harry lounging on the throne, in an oddly familiar pose. "You know Jareth won't be too happy if he catches you on his throne," she warned, before waving her arm in the direction of the owls, which were perched on the rafters, looking warily at the pack of goblins trying to jump and catch them. It was a reasonably well-thought out plan, but the goblins hadn't quite managed to get their heads around how high they would need to jump to actually catch the owls, not appearing to have realised that 25 feet was really rather high.

The owls, noticing the appearance of their target, took flight and circled round the pack of goblins (and Harry could have sworn he saw one of the owls tauntingly stick its tongue out at a goblin, who promptly jumped at it but missed), and swooped down to where Harry was sitting, landing on the arms of the throne. Harry took the first one, and was easily able to ascertain the identity of the writer from the scrawl he saw on his marked Potions' essays. Another two were just as familiar, and the last was vaguely familiar. It looked official, and he tossed it aside before opening Hermione's and Draco's letters.

_Hi Harry!_

_I just got your letter. Cool owl. Although it looks more like a parrot. Anyway, thank you for the invitation to visit you over the holidays and for including my parents in said invitation. I mentioned it to them at supper, and Mother seemed happy about it, but then Father started shaking in his chair, and Mother spent an hour calming him down. So I'm not too sure if we'll be coming to visit anytime soon. Hey, maybe you can stay with us! I bet Mother would let you have the suite next to mine. I'll go ask her! ... She said yes! Although Father was shaking his head violently, but don't take it personally, Harry, he does that to quite a few people. So, do you want to come over? We could play Quidditch? Father had the Quidditch pitch built for my eighth birthday, so it's still in relatively good condition._

_Draco_

Harry grinned, before ordering a goblin to fetch him a piece of paper in order to answer, and picked up Hermione's letter to read.

_Hello Harry,_

_I hope you're enjoying your holiday so far. Mum and Dad have taken me to Madrid for a couple of weeks, and I've already found the wizarding quarter. It's lovely, I have to say. There's such a large mix of different architectural styles, and there's thousands of bookshops! I don't think the Spanish Ministry is quite as strict as ours; I've seen plenty of books here which are banned in Britain. It's a pity, but I'm bringing a few back with me anyway. I can lend them to you, if you'd like? I was also wondering whether you might want to spend some time with me over the holidays? Maybe we could visit some of the nearby wizarding museums – I picked up some information about them when I last went to Diagon Alley. They do sound absolutely fascinating._

_Love Hermione_

Harry grinned, and quickly scribbled answers to them, both including a yes to their questions of asking him to visit. He folded up the replies to both letters, giving them to the recipients' respective owls, before picking up the official-looking letter, and decided to give it to Jareth later. It was probably from school and for his attention anyway. Harry picked up the last letter and tore it open before grinning at the opening lines, and reminded himself to give it to Jareth later at breakfast. Speaking of which, it certainly appeared that breakfast would soon be served, judging by the smells that had recently appeared from the dining room. The black-haired boy jumped up, and ran towards the dining room. Growing boys and all that, you know. Entering the room, he saw Jareth and Sarah already seated, with goblins serving them.

"Hey Jareth, this is from school, I think," Harry said distractedly, throwing the letter towards Jareth before taking his place in his chair and looking at the range of food that was on offer, and finally decided on pancakes and cereal. Jareth looked up, mildly bored at the mention of something from Hogwarts, and caught the letter as it sailed towards him before tearing it open. A few seconds passed before:

"Harry, I'm terribly sorry, but just looking at your report makes me want to hug you in pride. I mean, the sheer amount of detentions you've received. Wonderful. Just wonderful. And this Professor McGonagall – she was even kind enough to write why you received so many. _'His sheer cheek and rudeness to the professors. Failure to turn in homework. Collaboration with the school poltergeist...'_ And it goes on. The Headmaster has even added a comment. _'Just like his fathers.'_ How delightful of him," Jareth said, smirking at Harry, who was smirking back at him in return. "You know, I think I've actually done a good job raising you."

"And he's kept his grades up, which is also wonderful, isn't it Jareth," said Sarah warningly, as she looked at Harry's report after snatching it off Jareth.

"Yes, very clever, tra la la," the Goblin King said absent-mindedly, his attention from the report quickly disappearing as a goblin appeared in the doorway of the dining room.

"Sorry to be disturbing your majesties," it squeaked, "but there's being a...incident in the throne room with the vampire." The pause it took for the goblin to say 'incident' induced a rather apprehensive feeling in everyone in the room, and when it got to who was involved, well, the feeling only worsened.

"Bugger," Jareth groaned, and immediately disappeared, with Sarah sighing in annoyance at the glitter that had been sprinkled over the breakfast table. The food now liberally glimmered with it. Harry only grinned at her, and ran off to the throne room, following his father. Sarah sighed again, a mixture of acceptance and annoyance, and followed him; someone could clean that up – preferably Jareth – and besides, she rather wanted to see what trouble Riley had caused. Hey, the Goblin King was _hot_ when he was angry.

"Sparky?" Jareth had long ago given up calling Riley by his own name, and had decided to give him a more fitting name for a vampire. Something that would spark fear in anyone he crossed; that would make anyone tremble at the mere name. Names like "Bloodgusher" and "Ironfangs" ran through his mind. Then he promptly gave up on that idea and called him 'Sparky' instead. It suited him far more, Jareth thought, and he was also, of course, aware of the rage this name evoked in the vampire.

Said vampire snarled and made as if to lunge towards the Goblin King before remembering that most likely wouldn't be the best idea, before dropping the goblin he'd been about to throw out the window. Jareth looked around the room, noticing the splinters of furniture all over the place, and it looked as if his throne had taken a rather severe beating. Several chickens were clucking in disapproval from their perches, safe up on some of the higher window ledges.

"You know, Sparky," Jareth said casually, examining his fingernails, "you really do need to behave more. Otherwise...things...happen. Bad things."

Several goblins nodded in agreement. They knew those things; the Bog, the oubliettes, and then there were things that they didn't dare speak of; such as...'teatime.' Whenever the king's goddaughter visited, well, only the stupidest goblins were out in the open. Otherwise they'd find themselves in frilly dresses, and attempting to drink tea out of cups that were much too dainty for their rather large fingers. And if you dared even mention 'wash,' you'd find yourself talking to an empty room.

Riley only glared before explaining. "They were annoying me."

"Yes, I can imagine how the tables must have been taunting you," Jareth said dryly. "And the curtains must have really hit a sore spot." Said curtains were in shreds. The vampire only shrugged and put his hands in his pockets before leaning casually against the wall.

"Why did I even bother getting out of bed today?" Jareth asked no one in particular, before returning to the vampire, who merely stared at him blankly. "Very well," the Goblin King sighed. "You shall receive a week in the oubliette. I expect your destructive tendencies will be rather reduced for a while when you lack sustenance," and with a gesture, Sparky disappeared.

Harry stared at the space where the vampire had been, before shrugging, and turned to get back to his breakfast, shoving his hands in his pockets and then being rather bemused by the paper rustling before he remembered. "Hey, Jareth! This came from Snape", and handed the letter to his father.

_Goblin King & Potter._

_As requested, I am sending you information that may require your attention. You asked that I report the actions of teachers and what happens in the meetings but I took it upon myself to add some more information about the Malfoys. As much I may find you both extremely annoying, you do provide some rather amusing entertainment at times._

_I believe Lucius was hoping that Draco would dislike Hufflepuff, so that he could push for a re-sort for his son at the next School Governor's meeting, but that idea was rather spoilt by Draco saying something complimentary about the house. Lucius then promptly went into his study and didn't re-appear until the day after, copiously smelling of alcohol. Narcissa only seems to be amused by the whole thing, and has several times mentioned an invite to invite your family over; in front of Lucius, who then again disappeared into the study. Although, frankly speaking, that was nothing compared to the Divination Professor's reaction, who – at the first meeting after the Sorting – started wailing about doom and the end of the world approaching, and then dived into the bottle._

_I expect a new supply of goblin blood soon, as I have nearly run out._

_Severus Snape_

Harry was reading over Jareth's shoulder. "She's a pretty good Divination Professor then, predicting the future," he said, smirking. "Maybe I should take that class."


	10. Chapter 9

_Yay! I updated! And I'm sorry about the wait – I don't think I have an excuse, really. It has simply been a difficult chapter to write. I've had a look at the stats for this story, and there are people from all over the world reading this, which I still find pretty awesome._

_So, after reading a story by __galfoy__, titled _Of Kings and Queens_ (which is a great story by the way), I have decided that I love the idea of Narcissa Malfoy as a BAMF, which I hope might come across in this chapter. Also, many thanks go to __irfane,__I'm. . .An Innocent Bystander__, __Lovegood Loves Good__ and __DustBunnyQueen__ for the prank suggestions. The ones I haven't used in this chapter will most likely be used in future chapters, and if anyone else wants to suggest pranks, please do so._

**Towards the end of the summer holidays..**_**.**_

"Now, are you sure you have everything you need?" Sarah asked as she fussed about with Harry's hair, involving several curses from Sarah as his hair refused to lie flat.

"Yes, Sarah, I'm sure," Harry answered with a roll of his eyes. "You've asked me that twice already this morning."

"I just want to be sure," she huffed, before standing back and looking critically at her masterpiece for about two seconds before it sprang back to its usual unruly state.

"Ugh, I give up!" she proclaimed to nobody in particular. Jareth smirked – Sarah just hadn't seemed to learn yet that the sheer power of both his and Harry's hair simply refused to be tamed.

"Fine," Sarah exclaimed. "I'm all done. No more asking you if you're packed, no more messing with your hair." Harry cheered silently, which Sarah pretended not to see.

"Ready then, Harry?" Jareth asked, lounging on his throne, idly examining a piece of paper that was in fact a list of demands from the goblins' union. Really, he thought, since when had the goblins decided upon having unions? And asking him to pay wages? That was about as likely as asking him to stop wearing tight trousers; simply not going to happen.

"Yes," Harry sighed. "Everything's packed and sorted."

"Fantastic. Off we go," Jareth said cheerily, leaping off his throne, pausing only to give Sarah a knee-trembling goodbye kiss, before fading out along with Harry, who was rolling his eyes at the overdramatic display of affection.

"Damn you, Jareth," Sarah groaned as she lay in a heap on the floor, watching as glitter from the King's exit danced in the air around her.

xxxxxxx

"Harry, you're here!" Draco cheered. Lucius let out a rather undignified yelp. Narcissa only smiled. Gliding forward, she greeted the Goblin King with a deep curtsey, who was rather impressed; there were so few people these days who remembered the old manners. Rising and turning to Harry, Narcissa kissed him on both cheeks.

"Harry, darling, it's lovely to see you again," she said. "Now, if Draco would like to show you your room, you can leave your bags there and then join us for afternoon tea in the conservatory," she smiled. "And perhaps his Majesty would also care for tea?"

His Majesty did indeed care for tea, if only to watch the twitch on Lucius Malfoy's face grow larger.

Draco grinned slightly at the look on his father's face, but then immediately removed the grin as his father turned to glare at him, and hurriedly pulled on Harry's arm to drag him up the main staircase to his room.

Harry was really very glad to have Draco with him to show him around, given the amount of passages they went through before finally arriving at his room. Draco threw open the door with a flourish and bounded into the room.

Harry followed, rolling his eyes at the drama before taking in the room and all of its splendour. Like the Great Hall in Hogwarts, the ceiling had been charmed to show the night sky, but instead of reflecting the current sky, it showed a clear night with a crescent moon and stars twinkling all over the ceiling, along with a simply _huge _bed. Something told him, however, that Narcissa would not be happy if he bounced on the bed; even if she wasn't there at that moment, he was pretty sure she would _know_.

"Hey, if you want to wait outside, Draco, I'll quickly unpack?" Harry suggested, with the light of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Now, Draco may have been somewhat oblivious at points throughout his life, but even he recognised that remaining inside Harry's room would definitely nullify his defence of plausible deniability, so he nodded with a resigned smile upon his face, and backed out of the room. Still, he couldn't quite quench the feeling of anticipation welling within him.

The door had barely shut before Harry spun back to face the bed and emptied his bag out upon it. Clothes fell out and Harry impatiently swept them to one side, waiting for the uninvited guests to appear, and they did. One by one, they tumbled out of the opened bag, shoving each other out of the way as they toppled onto the bedspread. Some continued to push the others out of their way, leading to a clamour of yelps as elbows and knees hit rather sensitive parts.

Harry had to clear his throat several times before they started to quieten down, and eventually their gleeful little faces stared back at him expectantly.

"Now, for this next week, you're all going to be having some fun with Lucius Malfoy," Harry told the goblins. "You can do anything you want to him."

The goblins chittered excitedly with their minds already coming up with wicked, wicked plans.

"So long as it results in no permanent harm to him," he added quickly. The goblins looked shocked; permanent harm was half the fun!

"Right then," Harry grinned wickedly. "What are you lot waiting for?" The goblins needed no further encouragement, and quickly disappeared in order to find Lucius Malfoy. Evil giggles faded into the air as Harry stood still for a moment, smirking, before he left to find Draco who had been waiting impatiently for him outside, who grabbed Harry by the arm and proceeded to drag him through the many corridors of the Malfoy mansion to the conservatory.

Every so often the Goblin Prince could hear evil little giggles floating ahead of him. Really, Harry mused, he had to learn to stop smirking so much, or it would be far too obvious for any bystanders – or indeed the victims – to realise that something was about to happen.

In a very short while, he was sitting downstairs, a cup of tea in his hand, and Narcissa smiled kindly at him. "What are your plans for the future, Harry, if I may be so bold as to inquire?" She calmly ignored the screaming Lucius who was running up and down the hallway outside of the conservatory, being chased by goblins. Draco glanced nervously at his father as he passed by the doorway once again.

One goblin involved in the chase paused by the door, looked in, and then crept through the entrance, trying its best to move unnoticed. It failed; however, still believing that it remained invisible to the other occupants of the room, it sidled up to Narcissa's chair, and just as it attempted to grasp the skirts of her robes, it found itself flying up into the air rather violently and then falling, just stopping short of the carpeted floor.

From its close position, the goblin squinted at the stick thing its victim-to-be was holding; it looked very pretty with those lights coming out one end.

"Do not touch my robes."

This was said in the same sweet tone that Narcissa might have used to discuss the weather, but with a very noticeable hint of a threat added. With that said, she flicked her wand in a swirly pattern; the goblin fell to the floor, hurriedly patting himself all over to make sure he was alright before glaring at the Big Person who had dared to treat him so, and moving towards her in what he hoped was a threatening manner. He only managed a step before he started to fade. The goblin gulped as he looked down and noticed how his feet and legs were slowly disappearing from view; Harry had never heard a goblin squeal like that before.

"Never fear," Narcissa mentioned, leaning forward to add a drop more milk to her tea. "I believe that that certain spell transports the victim to the peacock enclosure. I am informed they do not like sudden appearances."

Jareth threw Narcissa a rather admiring glance.

"Well, finishing Hogwarts is the short-term plan, and then, I suppose, taking up my duties to being the Heir of the Goblin Kingdom," Harry replied with a charming smile on his face, completely ignoring what had happened to the goblin.

"How lovely," Narcissa smiled.

The background of Lucius' shrieking suddenly stopped, causing the small group to look up in alarm. Well, only Draco was looking up in alarm; both Jareth and Harry had identical smirks on while Narcissa looked slightly exasperated.

"Mother," Draco said nervously, as the sounds of whimpers finally became audible. "Shouldn't we go see what's happened to Father?"

"I suppose we must," Narcissa sighed in resignation. "Please excuse us, Your Majesty, Harry. Come along, Draco."

"May we accompany you, my lady," Jareth asked quickly, knowing perfectly well what had happened to the man and dearly wishing to see what they had done.

Narcissa nodded regally, gathering up her skirts and departing to see what had happened to her oh-so-beloved husband.

Lucius was sitting in the largest formal drawing room, huddled into a little ball in the corner. The once proud Slytherin had been cowed by the goblins who were circling around him, predatory grins on their face as they moved in closer, chanting under their breath. Jareth heard the whimpers and smiled beatifically.

The remainder of Harry's time with the Malfoys' went wonderfully, Harry thought. Lucius Malfoy might have disagreed with that conclusion though, after suffering several breakdowns over the course of the week. But that was just him.

xxxxxxx

Harry's feelings were rather mixed as he went back on the train. On one hand, he had missed Hogwarts really very much, and seeing all his friends every day; on the other, he missed the Underground so much sometimes that it hurt. He wondered how the goblins were doing in his absence...Probably getting drunk, to be honest.

He also wondered how Jareth was doing; he did get a bit worried sometimes about him when the King would go off into the Labyrinth somewhere and brood by himself for a bit. It hadn't happened nearly as often since Sarah had come to visit, which Harry was very thankful for. Sarah seemed to make him happier, and her visits were growing longer every time, so it looked as if it wouldn't be long until her visits were permanent.

He heard the door to his compartment open, breaking him out of his thoughts, and looked up with a smile as he saw Draco and Hermione at the door.

xxxxxxx

It was a few days later, in the middle of dinner when the first big prank of the year took place, when one of the Gryffindor girls began to shriek as she noticed what was happening to her and the rest of the girls at the table. Like the prank that had affected the male Slytherins last year, their clothing was slowly transforming into something that was most definitely not Hogwarts uniform. For the majority of the girls, their robes transformed into military-style, bright red coats, and hats formed out of nowhere onto their heads. For the other girls, however, their robes disappeared and the other students could wee the transformation of their skirts into high-waist trousers with braces stretching over their now red flannel shirts. Furry trapper hats had formed on their heads, while great big bushy beards overtook most of their faces.

One girl stepped up onto the table, uncaring of the food she was squashing beneath her feet, opened her mouth and began to sing. "_I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay. I sleep all night, I work all day_" with a beaming smile on her face.

The girls dressed in red coats suddenly stood up and belted out "_He's a lumberjack and he's okay. He sleeps all night and he works all day."_

There were a fair few in the audience who had begun to laugh hysterically, having recognised the lyrics.

Another of the girls not wearing a red coat also took her place on her table, before singing, "_I cut down trees, I eat my lunch, I go to the lavatory. On Wednesdays I go shopping, and have buttered scones for tea._"

The group of red-coated girls were back on their feet once again. "_He cuts down trees, he eats his lunch, he goes to the lavatory. On Wednesdays, he goes shopping and has buttered scones for tea. He's a lumberjack and he's okay. He sleeps all night and he works all day._"

"_I cut down trees, I skip and jump, I like to press wild flowers. I put on women's clothing and hang around in bars._"

"_He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps, he likes to press wild flowers. He puts on women's clothing and hangs around in bars. He's a lumberjack and he's okay. He sleeps all night and he works all day,_" came the chorus once again, with a rather puzzled tone in the middle of it.

"_I cut down trees, I wear high heels, suspenders and a bra. I wish I'd been a girlie, just like my dear Papa!_" belted out the last soloist …

"_He cuts down trees, he wears high heels, suspenders and a bra_…" the group of girls trailed off as they realised what the lyrics were actually saying, and as they stopped singing, the spell finished. A few of the girls, having realised what they'd been singing, took an bow to the enthusiastic clapping of many of the other students and a few of the Professors, while the others blushed bright red and sat straight back down.

Draco and Harry merely grinned at one another, raising their glasses to one another in a toast of their general awesomeness.

xxxxxxx

And in another place far, far away, two people were watching their son, who was currently locked in one of Hogwarts' classrooms, completing a deal with Peeves. Incidentally, this deal would result in the Great Butterfly Incident of 1992, which the whole school would universally vow to forget. Apart from the Weasley Twins, who took it as a challenge, leading then to the Take-Over of the Caterpillars. Scotland would never be the same, and a separate cabinet was set aside for them in the Ministry of Magic's Obliviator Office.

"Do you know," James said thoughtfully, "I think he's doing a rather good job of raising Harry."

Lily rolled her eyes. "You're only saying that because Harry caused absolute hell at the Malfoys'."

"I know!" James grinned. "Wasn't it wonderful?"

Lily looked at him in slight despair, but had to relinquish her mock anger as she thought of what they'd seen: Lucius Malfoy huddled into a ball, rocking back and forth, surrounded by goblins pulling on his shiny, shiny purple hair. She promptly broke out into laughter.

_Many thanks also go to Monty Python for their sheer awesomeness – once the lumberjack prank was suggested, how could I not include that song? I very much hope they don't mind me borrowing their wonderful song._

_And, what do you all think?_


End file.
